A Haunting We Will Go
by ValleyA
Summary: Halloween is never typical for Peter Caine and company.
1. Chapter 1

**"A Haunting We Will Go"**

**by ValleyA**

**Chapter One**

**October 29****th**

A brisk October wind howled past Detective Peter Caine as if it was a banshee's cry heralding the arrival of Death's chariot into this realm, chilling the souls of any living witnesses to its fearsome shriek and awesome might. And the wind did chill him, his fingers felt like claws of ice as they fought to maintain their grip on his straining umbrella.

Trudging through the heavy downpour inundating the city, Peter had to hike his way to the 101st precinct, grumbling all the while. He was doing a pretty good job of holding onto his umbrella, considering there were gale force winds tugging at its frame, but he'd long since given up on the notion of staying dry.

Peter started toward the staircase leading into the station house when another brutal gust of wind blasted past him and his umbrella. He managed to hold onto the thing long enough to watch it invert, then shred as it was whipped about in the merciless wind.

"Son of a bitch!" Peter exclaimed as he threw the now useless device on the ground.

The uncaring wind continued to hurl huge sheets of rain at him. He cursed, then kicked the poor abused and misshapen umbrella off the sidewalk, so that it landed with a thud against the side of the building.

A moment later, it disappeared into a rapidly growing pool of runoff water from a nearby storm drain. Peter shook his head in exasperation as large raindrops pelted his face, adding insult to injury. With a sudden shift in attitude, he closed his eyes and leaned his head back to allow the rain to fully hit his face and he smiled devilishly as he flipped off the storm overhead with a hand gesture of boyhood satisfaction.

He proceeded inside, hoping for a belligerent felon to go ten rounds with him. At least, it would be a release for his pent-up frustration against the forces of Mother Nature.

**oOoOoOoOo**

Detective Jody Powell took a moment to pass out some Halloween candy to some of her coworkers before stepping onto a small ladder. She had one last strand of orange and black streamers to finish draping diagonally across the lobby and staple into place before she was done.

She held the long section of streamers twisted in her hand as she surveyed her decorations with a more discerning eye. They were even better this year than they'd been before. The lobby and bullpen areas had a festive look, ready to welcome Halloween in a few days.

There was one section left to finish, then her self-appointed decorating tasks would be complete. She heard the whoosh of wind and rain, which accompanied the opening of the front door, and knew someone was coming in from the blustering rainstorm outside. The streamers fluttered with the sudden breeze and she had to work a little harder to keep from dropping them.

All it took was one look at how soaked Peter was as he came through the front door to send her into a fit of giggles, but a second glance caused her laughter to die in her throat as her partner's intense glare sent icy daggers of death through her.

Peter didn't say a single word as he stomped past her, his wet hair plastered to his forehead and water dripping off the end of his chin and nose. He proceeded past Sergeant Broderick at the front desk, then walked through the dangling streamers still in her hand as if they weren't even there. His pace never slowed as the fragile streams of paper pulled tight against his chest, then tore into separate pieces that fluttered to the floor with his passing. He entered the bullpen area without ever looking back.

Jody stammered in shock, finally yelling in outrage, and she shouted, "HEY!"

Peter usually growled at her as she decorated for the October holiday, but this time, he threw his hands up into the air and shouted, "I! HATE! HALLOWEEN!"

Jody got one snipe in before he disappeared from her view, "Yeah, well, I'm not real happy with you right now either, partner!"

Peter ignored her and shook the water from his arms like a wet dog, oblivious to anyone or anything standing nearby, then he frowned at the passing stream of construction workers carrying equipment into the basement. The heavy traffic blocked his route to his desk as he glared and paced, rather than simply waiting in place.

"What's this? A speedy bypass route to the city construction depot?" Peter muttered, still shaking off the water still dripping down his arms.

"Now, Peter, be nice," Blake said, the remnants of his head cold clearly present, as he refilled his coffee cup. "We are all city employees here – all part of one big happy family."

Maybe it was his lingering cold which made Blake's devil horns emerge, because he didn't seem able to resist his next comment as he eyed Peter's drenched appearance and gestured with his ever present coffee cup. "You know, Pete, there's a drip mat in the back for umbrellas where you can stand until you've finished drip-drying."

Peter's glare now turned on Blake, who looked more like a kindly college English instructor than a cop. He just smiled back in smug satisfaction. Peter opened his mouth to throw a nasty quip back at him, but then decided Blake wasn't worth the effort at the moment.

Instead, Peter shed his water-logged jacket and hung it up with all of the other dripping coats on a nearby coat rack. He ran his icy fingers through his soggy hair in an attempt to make himself halfway presentable, even though he knew it wouldn't help much and went to pour himself a cup of coffee when Blake stopped him, sounding genuinely apologetic this time. "Uh, sorry, Pete, I took the last cup. A new pot will be ready in a couple of minutes."

Peter's gaze turned deadly. He'd really wanted that cup of coffee to help warm him up. Blake took note of the glare, because he added, "You can have mine, if you want, Petey."

Blake held out his already sipped-on cup for as an offering, only to pause and sneeze. Peter licked his lips as the steaming cup of coffe seemed to call his name, but he thought better of it. The last thing he needed was to catch Blake's cold.

Peter shook his head and groused, "I'll just wait for a fresh pot."

Peter went to his desk and sighed. He stared at the unruly pile of paperwork he'd left from the night before. He stretched a bit, wishing he had gotten more sleep. It had been another night filled with dreams about skeletons, impending danger and death.

Knowing the paperwork wasn't going to do itself, he sat down at his desk and was soon engrossed in his reports. He barely noticed Blake's passing presence. The heavenly scent of fresh coffee wafting from the cup on his desk did catch his attention, though. Blake must have slipped it under his nose after the last pot had finished brewing.

Peter smiled and gave Blake a grateful nod as he took a sip of the still too hot coffee and sighed in contentment. Another moment and Peter was back to his paperwork.

**oOoOoOoOo**

The procession of city construction workers passing through on their way to the basement didn't escape Frank Strenlich's watchful eye as he surveyed each one of them with a prevailing air of suspicion.

Captain Karen Simms sauntered up to his side and smiled as she whispered, "You know, chief, those people are not the enemy."

Frank never shifted his gaze as he replied, "I know, Captain, but I don't like strangers traipsing through my department."

"It will only be for a few weeks until they complete the renovations to the basement. It's a win-win situation. We get a new base of operations for our precinct's computer systems, freeing up more room for office space and provide a larger conference room."

Frank gritted his teeth as Simms mentioned the 'C' word. Computers. God, how he hated them. "If you say so, Captain," he replied politely, though Simms eyed him for a moment.

"Try to relax, Chief," Simms said finally as she sighed and returned to her office.

After a moment, the last of the construction workers disappeared into the basement and Frank gave up his vigil. He grabbed the files he needed and headed for his own office.

**oOoOoOoOo**

The construction crew had dug down into the foundation of the basement to complete the necessary renovations when the ground underneath gave way. Rock, earth and rubble tumbled into a cavern about thirty feet deep. Luckily, no one was caught in the collapse.

George Yingst, the foreman for this city work detail, sent his second-in-command, Jaime Gomez, down through the opening armed with a heavy-duty flashlight and orders to report back on what he saw there. Jaime relied on the meager light from his hard hat as he rappeled down below using some adapted mountain climbing gear one of his men had in their truck. When Jaime switched on his large handheld flashlight, he was amazed to find an extensive area carved out of the bedrock.

He stared in amazement at a wide tunnel about a hundred feet long and twenty feet wide. He released himself from his cable and began to walk around and whistled softly to himself. This tunnel was not a natural occurrence; it was definitely manmade. He even noticed some rusty tools leaning against one wall.

"Jaime? What do you see down there?" the foreman's voice took on a mechanical tone as it echoed over the radio in the huge, empty cavern.

Jaime started to reach for the hand mike clipped to his utility vest when something else caught his eye. George sounded pretty agitated as he said, "Gomez, respond."

Jaime meant to reply, but then his eyes narrowed. He stepped closer to what had caught his attention for a better look and saw two skeletons, lying side by side within two piles of old and dusty clothing. The realization they were definitely human remains caused Jaime to back up so quickly he almost stumbled.

Jaime searched for the cable he'd discarded after his descent, then followed its length upwards with his flashlight until he spied the opening above it. Suddenly, he heard his supervisor bellow at him over his hand mike, and realized George must have been calling to him for a while. "Gomez, I'll have your ass in a sling if you don't answer me now! Damn it, what the hell is going on down there?"

Jaime finally grabbed his hand mike and spoke into it in his usual understated manner, "Uh, boss, I think you better come down here. You might wanna grab one of those cops from up above, too. I just found some skeletons – they're human and I think they've been dead for a long while."

**oOoOoOoOo**

After Strenlich got wind of the construction crew's discovery, he sent Peter and Jody down to the site to check it out. Peter's dark mood hadn't improved as the morning progressed, but neither had Jody's, so it was a quiet team of detectives who followed the work crew into the nether regions below.

Once Peter disconnected himself from his line, he walked over to where the others were standing around the skeletons. Glancing back, he saw a beefy construction worker helping Jody with her line. It seemed like he was giving her a lot more attention than the situation required and Jody was enjoying the encounter, so Peter opted to go straight to work.

He squatted beside the skeletons, shining his flashlight over the dull bones. He felt a presence beside him and saw Jody leaning over his shoulder, still not talking to him.

Frowning, a fragment from Peter's dream the previous night flashed across his thoughts. His head whipped up as the frightening recollection became clearer in his thoughts – it had something to do with bones and skeletons. In fact, this whole scenario seemed very familiar and dangerous at the same time.

With that startling revelation, he knew Jody was in danger. His reached up and pulled her back from the bones, as if they had suddenly become a coiled collection of cobras ready to attack. Jody's expression conveyed a mixture of surprise, irritation, and concern, especially when Peter stopped rather abruptly after jerking her away.

Peter felt a tickling at the back of his mind and he stiffened as it continued to grow. Strangely, Jody had stiffened in her stance, too, then a blinding white light exploded inside Peter's mind without warning and the world around them disintegrated.

**oOoOoOoOo**

George Yingst, the construction foreman, and his men migrated over to where they'd found a brick wall at the one end of the tunnel as they waited for the detectives to do their thing. "Hope this doesn't take long or else we'll be way behind schedule," George muttered.

His gaze went to the brick wall as he spoke. It seemed completely out of place and its purpose unknown. Nothing like that was on any of the blueprints he'd seen. Then again, this whole cavern wasn't on the blue prints, either.

Without warning, every flashlight in the cavern went out at the same time.

Accompanying the abrupt darkness came a chilling whirlwind, one which blasted everyone from their feet. Even before their bodies had time to hit the ground, an unholy scream filled the huge grotto. It was a howling lament, the kind George had never heard before and prayed never to hear again. It wailed into the frigid air nearly curdling George's blood as he stared out into the awful darkness.

George, a man nearly the size of Shaquille O'Neal and also African-American origin, reached for his hand mike intending to call for help, only to find it wouldn't work.

A few of the guys had managed to get to their feet despite the windstorm still blasting around them. George tried to walk in the general direction of the cables that linked them to the rest of the world, but he became lost in the pitch-black darkness.

The freezing temperatures stiffened George's movements as, if his joints had become iced over during his attempts to move. Two tours in Viet Nam had never prepared him for anything as bizarre as this.

Just as quickly as the lights had gone out, they came back on. They shone with a sudden, glaring intensity that startled George and the rest of his crew.

"What the hell was that?" George muttered, being the first of the group to speak.

The hand mike still in his grip squawked to life along with the flashlights. "Boss? Boss, can you hear me? Respond if you can!"

George tried to appear calm as he activated his hand mike and spoke into it, "Yingst here. We're fine. What's your status?" His graveled voice sounded surprisingly strong.

He was amazed how quickly the cavern seemed to warm up with the reactivation of the flashlights. He looked upward as he heard Milo Milanski, speak in a breathless, agitated manner. "Everything went dead up here for a minute. When it came back on, I was worried about you folks stuck down there."

"Same thing happened down here. We – "

George was interrupted by his assistant crew chief, Jaime Gomez, "Uh, boss, I think we've got another problem here. You better call for some paramedics... "

George turned and was stunned to see the two police detectives who had accompanied them down into the tunnel were lying unconscious beside each other, mere inches from the two skeletons. The complexions of the two cops were ash-white while their lips were nearly tinged blue.

"Boss, their skin is ice cold," Gomez said as he pulled off his jacket and placed it over the female officer who was dressed in lighter clothing than the man beside her.

One of the other men kneeling beside Jaime quickly removed his sweatshirt jacket and draped it over the unconscious detective as Gomez took the woman's limp hand in his and rubbed it briskly, trying to give her additional body heat.

George scowled with concern and glanced upward. "Ah, shit! Milanski? Call for the paramedics now! We've got some unconscious cops down here in the middle of everything else!"

As he heard Milanski shout orders, George rubbed a hand over his bald head and sighed deeply. It was turning into one hell of a day.

**oOoOoOoOo**

"Peter?"

Distantly, Caine heard his name being called several times. With each repetition, the disembodied voice calling to him seemed to become more upset. He glanced up with half-lidded eyes to see Kermit leaning close to him. "Peter? Peter, can you hear me?"

Before he could answer, he started to shiver violently. "C-cold," he managed to stammer in a hoarsely whispered tone.

Kermit bent to tuck in the pile of blankets thrown over him more tightly.

"I know you are, Peter, but just sit tight. Help's on the way."

Peter tried to sit up as he grew more alert, only to have Kermit push him back down none too gently and growl, "Hold it right there, Superman. I said there's help on the way to check you two out."

"Two? W-who else?" Peter rasped.

He turned his head slightly and caught a glimpse of another body beside him. He recognized Jody's curly blonde hair and shifted enough to see Powell's eyelids were fighting to stay open just like his own were doing.

"Jody?" Peter tried to rise again, only to be shoved back down.

"I said wait," Kermit snarled. "Don't make me say it again."

Peter's head sagged back down to the ground wearily, unable to continue to push against Kermit's hand. Kermit seemed to relax a little once Peter stopped trying to fight against him and glanced back over at Strenlich and Jody as he asked, "How's she doing, chief?"

The burly ex-marine shook his head as he tried calling Jody's name again. Frank rocked back on his heels. "Whatever hit them sure knocked them for a loop," Frank replied grimly.

Kermit's jaw tightened with concern and he bent down closer to Peter. "Peter? What happened?"

Peter took a deep breath, trying to sort things out in his head. Finally, he opened his eyes slightly and looked up at Kermit. "D-Damned if I know. We w-were looking at the sk-skeletons when, all of a sudden, t-the lights went out. And I guess, so did we."

Rubbing a throbbing temple as his shivering tampered off, Peter asked, "W-was anyone else affected?"

Kermit shook his head. "Nope, only you two."

"Great," Peter sighed, closing his eyes again.

By the time the paramedics arrived, Peter felt almost human. His skin was still icy cold compared to Kermit's hands, but at least his brain was functioning again. Jody remained pale and just as icy cold to the touch as he was, but it was their exhaustion seemed to be the most irritating aftereffect.

"No, I don't want to go to the hospital," Peter said emphatically. "I'm fine. Just a little tired and cold. It's no big deal."

Jody nodded in agreement. "It would be a waste of time. I'm not going either."

Frank and Kermit eyed the two of them. Frank said, "You need to go to the hospital to be checked out."

"For what? To be told I'm cold and tired? Come on, Frank."

Kermit said, "Both of you were unconscious."

Peter shook his head, but it was Jody that answered him. "We're fine, honestly. Not sure what happened, but we are fine."

Jody's voice was husky and she kept her blanket tightly clutched around her shoulders, yet there was enough of her usual determination shining through to help ease Peter's concern for her.

Frank sighed as he thought. Finally, he said, "I'm not going to order you to go to the hospital, but you're going to take the rest of the day off, and that's final."

Then his expression grew more stern as he stared at both of them. "If either one of you start to feel worse, you better get your ass to the hospital, or you'll hear about it from me!"

Kermit shook his head, but didn't say anything as they got to their feet to head up top. Peter knew he was worried, but it wasn't Kermit's way to hover. Thank God for that, Peter thought with a tired grin. All he wanted to do was go home and crawl into bed.

**oOoOoOoOo**


	2. Chapter 2

**Chapter Two**

Going from work to his car, and again from his car to his apartment soaked Peter's clothes for the second time in one day. By the time he unlocked the front door, he thought he was nearly frozen and almost dead on his feet. He stripped down to his underwear, then crawled into his bed and pulled an extra comforter over him.

Two breaths later, he was out.

It was nearly evening, several hours later, when he awoke screaming from a frightening dream. Cold sweat covered him as the last remnants of the nightmare faded away and he finally realized his father was holding him tightly in his comforting arms.

"Pop? What are you – never mind, I don't want to know how or why. I'm just glad you're here," Peter said as he melted into his father's embrace.

"You are trembling, my son. I felt a disturbance within your spirit. By the time I arrived, you were screaming in your dream, trying to fight with someone... "

Peter's ragged breath caught in his chest as he pulled away, his eyes focusing on a distant, elusive memory. "Yeah, I kind of remember it now. I was fighting to the death with... somebody. I'm just glad it was just a dream, because it seemed like whoever I was fighting, we weren't gonna stop until one of us was dead."

Peter's shivers increased and his father pulled an additional comforter from the bedroom closet and wrapped it around his shoulders.

"You are cold and weak. I shall prepare some tea that will help to warm and strengthen you. Wait here." His father stood and walked out of the darkened room.

Peter reached over and switched on the night stand lamp, then pulled the comforter closer to him as remnants of the dream replayed in his mind. The clothing and speech of the people in his dream seemed to be from another place and time – maybe around the turn of the century? Then again, the entire scene had a familiar feel to it, as if the strange attire was the proper thing to wear. Maybe if his head wasn't aching so, he could make more sense out of his blasted dream.

But it wasn't just his head. His heart was still pumping at a furious pace and his breathing came much too fast. Worse, he couldn't shake the chill that enveloped him.

He swallowed hard. _'Maybe I'm coming down with Blake's cold. He was out for a few days when he first came down with it. Ah, damn it, that must be it.'_

Yet, Peter was more deeply disturbed by the confusing nature of his dream than by his physical discomforts. He couldn't shake the feeling that there was some hidden meaning – something which he should be able to discern if he only focused hard enough.

Fragments of conversations and thoughts that weren't associated with any part of Peter rattled around inside his head, increasing the severity of his headache. There was a persistent notion that those fragments did belong to him, but that he should recognize them as his, almost as if he had once possessed the memories and emotions of two very different men at war for control within him at the same time.

Deciding he didn't want to think about it anymore, Peter went to stand, but found himself lying face first in the plush tan carpeting of his bedroom a moment later. His father entered the room with a tray containing Peter's tea among other things, just as Peter fell. Setting the tray atop the dresser, he rushed to help Peter.

"Geez, that was embarrassing, " Peter muttered as his father helped him settle back onto the bed and covered him with his blankets and the added comforter. His father pulled more bedding from the closet shelf and piled it atop Peter as he continued to shiver.

Caine stopped and smiled. "This reminds me of times when you were sick as a young boy," he said softly, then he went to retrieve the tray he had left on the oak dresser.

His father carefully brought the cup of steaming tea to his son's lips – only to be stopped in mid-motion by Peter. Taking the proffered cup from his father's hand, Peter said, "Pop, I may have two left feet at the moment, but I think I can handle one small cup of tea."

Peter glanced up to see his father staring at his trembling hands and he tried to still the trembling as he brought the cup of tea to his lips to drink. Lightning lit up the early evening skies outside, only to be followed by a tremendous clap of thunder. As the rain pelted Peter's bedroom window, the warming tea felt all the better going down his throat, especially knowing he didn't have to be out in that nasty weather at that moment.

"I also brought some soup, crackers, and fruit for you, my son. You should take better – "

Peter cut him off. "I'm not hungry right now, Pop – the tea is enough. Thanks, anyway."

The thought of food made Peter want to run for the bathroom. Geez, maybe he was coming down with the flu. Neither man said anything for a long while as Peter continued to sip his tea, but he did feel stronger with each passing minute.

Finally, Caine broke the silence by asking, "Are you ready to talk about what happened to cause you such weakness, Peter?"

Peter pursed his lips together as he brought the cup up again for another sip, then paused. He stared into his father's dark hazel eyes, and for a moment, he was ready to try and pass along everything that he was feeling – his unvoiced concerns, the overwhelming sense of panic, and deep confusion he had regarding what had happened earlier that morning – then Peter pulled away abruptly as he often did when dealing with something he didn't understand.

"It was nothing," he whispered. "I just passed out. I think I'm coming down with the flu or something."

His father listened and brought his hand to rest atop Peter's forehead, as if to check for fever. Peter shrugged away from him automatically, knowing his father wouldn't find an elevated temperature. His anger only grew knowing his father had already come to that conclusion before he went through the motions of placating his son.

Peter sat up straighter and put out a hand in warning. "Don't, Pop! Don't baby me! Hell, I'm not some kid trying to get out of school for the day! I'm tired, I have a headache, I'm cold, and I just wanna sleep! So, stop it!"

His father pulled back the hand he'd touched to Peter's forehead and clasped it into a fist before allowing it to drop into his lap. Peter licked his lips. Maybe his father would finally get the message he wasn't ready to talk yet.

"Perhaps it would be best if I left you to rest," his father said softly, "I will check on you again tomorrow. Hopefully, you will be in a better mood to discuss your experiences from this morning."

He stood and turned to leave.

"Pop?" Peter heard a hushed, little boy tone to his voice as he suddenly regretted his harsh words.

His father swiveled back and Peter's downcast gaze slowly rose to meet his.

"I'm sorry – really, I am. I'm just tired. Look, I'll stop by after work tomorrow and we can talk about it then. Okay? I'll bring takeout for dinner. Thanks for stopping by."

His father smiled before bowing, then he left the apartment. Peter leaned back against his pillow and pulled his blankets tighter around him. Now, if only he could mend things as easily with his body as he'd just done with his father.

**oOoOoOoOo**

Kermit wandered around the newly discovered basement sub-level with the typical attention than he gave to a crime scene. The construction crew had left after being told the police would have to investigate, so the crews packed up their equipment and set it to one side of the basement after posting signs that warned the area was dangerous and to stay away from the gaping opening in its floor. Yeah, that took a genius to figure out.

The police department's forensics team had already been down to collect evidence and take crime scene photographs. Nicky Elder, from the coroner's office, had also been through and bagged the separate remains of the two skeletons, carting them upstairs for a closer examination.

Kermit had lingered after everyone else left, wanting a closer examination of the area without the irritation of outside interruptions. After walking around the cavern a few times, he felt himself strangely drawn back to the distant brick wall. His hands drew along the roughness of the bricks themselves, which seemed to pulse with an eerie sense of familiarity before he jerked them away in surprised shock.

Kermit shivered. When he released the deep breath he'd unknowingly been holding, he saw a big puff of vapor accompanying his exhalation. _'When did it get so frigging cold in here? _he thought, puzzled by the abrupt change in temperature.

He glimpsed movement out of the corner of one eye and spun the flashlight in his hand around to sweep the area, then he chided himself for being so easily spooked.

Eventually, the air temperature seemed to warm. After another fruitless search of the area took up the better part of an hour, Kermit used the same climbing equipment to emerge from the newly created hole in the ground. Kermit decided to put the more bizarre aspects of the morning's mystery out of his mind, but he couldn't shake the feeling that the mystery was far from being resolved.

**oOoOoOoOo**

Mary Margaret walked into the women's restroom to reapply her lipstick before leaving for stakeout duty. She was still concerned about how badly both Peter and Jody had looked when they'd left for home earlier that morning. She decided to call them both later to check on them, then chuckled to herself. _'I'm starting to sound like the resident den mother here.'_

She shook her head and applied her lipstick, then ran her fingers through her hair. She stopped when she smelled the overwhelming scent of roses. Turning her head to confirm the aroma, something caught her eye. She pivoted slowly and saw a hazy image floating in front of the restroom window.

Intrigued, she stepped forward, sure that there was some type of optical illusion causing the apparition. The image was too hazy to discern a shape from it, but it was definitely there. She gathered her courage and swept an extended hand through it, only to have the phantasm simply evaporate into nothing, taking the heady scent of roses along with it.

Mary Margaret started to run from the bathroom to call for help, then stopped herself.

"What the hell are you going to tell the guys when they ask you what you saw?" she asked herself incredulously, then decided to keep the incident to herself.

She didn't need the type of endless ribbing they'd give her in response.

**oOoOoOoOo**

Strenlich entered his office and closed the door behind him for a few minutes of well-deserved peace and quiet. He picked up a couple of files, plopped his feet up on his desk and leaned back in his chair, intending to get comfortable before digging into a lengthy session of reports.

Frank was deep into one report when he shivered. Sensing all was not right, his head popped up and he looked around. "Is the heating on the fritz now? Great, that's just what we need in the middle of the worst storm system of the decade!" he grumbled as he glanced out the window in his office.

It was dark enough outside to mistake the time of day for early evening, instead of early afternoon. "Better give maintenance a call," he muttered with disdain, "Those construction bozos probably did something to screw up the works. "

He went to reach for the telephone when the blinds on his office window rattled. It was cold, sure, but there was no breeze that he could feel circulating in the small office to cause that to occur. As he watched, it happened again. This time, he was certain the rattling hadn't come from any wind.

"What the hell?" he exclaimed as he rose from his seat, only to watch the blinds lower themselves on their own volition. Frank had seen many unusual sights in his lifetime, but never anything like that.

Small puffs of vapor formed with his rapid exhalations, causing him to realize the room temperature had dropped even more. He swept his hand around the cord to the blinds looking for some type of remote control device and found none.

"Blake – this has to be Blake's doing!" he said aloud.

A young woman's giggle filled the air, along with the scent of roses.

"Enough is enough!" Frank shouted and flung open the door to his office with sufficient force to cause heads to turn in his direction.

"Whoever's playing stupid Halloween tricks around here, better stop them right now if they want to continue working in this city!" he bellowed, then slammed his door shut.

He was sure there were some heads shaking in confusion, but it didn't matter. He had to get his point across and he didn't want to waste time explaining himself.

The cold had left his office after his outburst, but the scent of roses lingered a bit longer.

He tried to regain the same level of concentration he had moments beforehand, but it was pointless. This latest incident, along with the morning's worries about Powell and Caine kept disrupting his train of thought. Finally, he gave up and left to perform more mundane duties like collecting his mail and checking on the status of active investigations.

**oOoOoOoOo**

Blake was working on a new configuration for a miniaturized listening device that had come to him during lunch. He wanted to try it out before he left to relieve Skalany on a stakeout in a few hours.

After laying out the necessary components on his desk, he reached for his trademark cup of coffee, but the cup wasn't where Blake thought he'd left it. When he looked up, he found the missing cup sitting on the other side of his desk.

"What?" he asked quietly, puzzled that he could have been so far off.

He quickly glanced around the bullpen to see if anyone had been watching him, but the room was strangely vacant. Everyone was either off on assignment or at home sick. Relieved, he went to retrieve his cup, but he was shocked to discover the porcelain cup was ice cold.

Blake simply stared at the frosty mug in his hand for a long moment before glancing at his watch to make sure he hadn't zoned out and lost a big chunk of time, but only minutes had passed since he returned from lunch and poured his cup of hot coffee.

Holding the chilled cup in his hands, he realized the air around him had grown cold, too.

"Crazy weather," he finally muttered as he went to refill his cup with hot coffee and left it at that.

**oOoOoOoOo**

Karen Simms reached over to grab her telephone and punched in Kermit Griffin's extension number, "Kermit, would you please come into my office for a moment?" she asked and thought she heard Griffin grunt something in the way of an affirmative response.

As she went to replace the handset, she knocked a couple of files off the edge of her desk. Cursing softly, she knelt to retrieve the errant files with her back to the door.

When she heard the office door open and close, she spoke without turning around, "Be with you in just a second, Kermit, I've made a bit of a mess here."

Kermit could be enigmatic at times, but he was usually enough of a gentleman to offer to help in situations such as this. If nothing else, he typically replied when spoken to. Encountering unexpected silence, Karen began to turn to see what was going on with him when a strong chill in the air made her stop and shudder.

She was certain she sensed the presence of another person in the room, though she hadn't seen or heard them yet. Apparently, it was someone other than Kermit Griffin.

"Who's there?" she asked sternly, irritated that someone would enter her office unannounced.

Without warning, the lights in her office went out. Now, she was just plain mad. These were juvenile tricks to play. Someone was due for a royal reaming. When she spun around, Karen was shocked to find herself alone in the room, even though she was sure someone had been in there with her.

She slowly scanned the room, eventually winding up by the door. That was when she felt a cold hand brush against her back. Karen automatically reached for her weapon as she turned, raising it in self-defense, prepared to fire the gun if necessary.

Instead of a silent assailant or jokester, all she had was empty air to face her. Cold empty air. She jumped back in shock and confusion, her back hitting the closed door to her office hard enough to rattle the blinds on the windows.

Karen heard Kermit knock on the door behind her, making her jump again.

"Kermit?" she cried out with more panic in her voice than the tough, no-nonsense captain normally allowed.

Without turning around and still keeping her back to the door so she could watch for any potential attack, she reached back with her free hand and tried to twist the doorknob, but it refused to move in the slightest.

Karen heard Kermit's voice take on a more urgent tone and she was very glad to know that Kermit was also aware she was in trouble. With Kermit's stubborn nature, Karen was sure she wouldn't be alone for long.

The door knob jerked roughly as Kermit tried to jar it loose. "Captain? Can you hear me?"

"Yes, Kermit, I hear you, but something's frozen the door mechanism. It's not locked, but it won't open and... "

"And what?" Kermit sounded confused and more than a little concerned.

Karen thought she heard a soft voice calling out the name. She turned her head to hear more clearly. "Abigail?"

"Captain? Captain Simms, answer me!" Kermit demanded, the worry in his voice growing with each second of her silence.

"I'm okay. Just hold on a second..."

Then, she heard it again, only stronger this time. "Must... find... Abigail."

The male voice was clearer as he said more than just a name, but still it was only slightly louder than a rustling of leaves in a forest on a breezy day.

Karen's eyes tried to focus in the darkened office and she stepped closer in the direction of the mysterious voice when she suddenly gasped aloud. There was a dark mass floating beside her window, almost in the shape and size of a man, but transparent in nature.

Curiosity compelled her to move forward, but as she neared the figure, she heard the voice beg her, "Please... find... Abigail... "

And then the figure vanished. In the same instant, the lights in her office came back on in glaring brightness. Karen wrapped her arms folded around herself, wondering what the hell had just happened.

She still had no answers a split second later when the door inexplicably released its death lock and Kermit came barreling into the room, caught off guard by the opening door. He cursed loudly as he rolled over on the carpeting, then looked up into Karen's troubled eyes as she stared back at him, unable to move.

Kermit must have sensed her shock, because he scrambled to his feet and took hold of her arms.

"What the hell was going on in here?" he asked, concerned.

Karen shook her head. She was still trembling and had no answers. Finally, she shook her head and sighed. "I wish to hell I knew."

**oOoOoOoOo**

**Chapter 2**


	3. Chapter 3

**October 30th**

**Chapter Three**

Mary Margaret watched the construction crew go back into the basement to start work again on the renovations after receiving the go-ahead order from city hall to proceed. It made sense. After all, the skeletons had already been removed, and the forensic team had finished collecting any possible evidence, so there really was no reason to keep the construction people away from the site.

She turned her attention away from them as the last man went downstairs and back to more important matters, such as Peter and Jody. They'd both dragged themselves into work this morning, though it looked like this was the last place they wanted to be. Both were still pale and listless, and Mary Margaret wondered if they'd even gotten any sleep after looking into their bloodshot eyes. Each of them wore several layers of clothing.

When Mary Margaret asked Jody why, she said she was still chilled from the day before, and there seemed to be very little she could do to completely eliminate the pervading cold she felt. Physically, Jody and Peter looked much better than they had the day before, but their emotional state was another story altogether. They had an almost haunted cast to their eyes as they struggled to make it through the day, even when they kept busy.

Mary Margaret tapped her fingernails on her desk as she remembered how strangely the night shift had acted when she came in that morning and how they'd torn out of the place once the first of the day shift started rolling in. Memories of her own experience in the bathroom the day before made her shiver and she wondered what other bizarre experiences were out there unspoken.

Within the hour, life started to resume its normal hustle-and-bustle, probably thanks to some high-octane coffee Blake had made. Peter was even pestering Blake to help him on a case he was trying to finish up. Mary Margaret winked at Jody when she caught Jody's eye. Jody smiled in return, then went back to the report she was working on.

Captain Simms emerged from her office and stopped beside Mary Margaret's desk. "Good to see everyone has recovered from yesterday, despite the nasty weather outside," Simms said.

Strenlich joined them as Simms asked, "Any sign of when this storm system will pass? I really don't want to brave the elements again in just a few minutes."

"Not that I've heard, Captain," Strenlich said, shaking his head before adding, "It's supposed to pour all day. If it keeps going like this, we'll be rowing to work soon."

Simms grunted and said, "Now, that's a wonderful image. I have to leave for the mayor's task force meeting at city hall in a few minutes. I'd prefer not to be stranded there."

Mary Margaret smiled. "Hopefully, you won't need to commandeer a passing rowboat to get back here."

"I've got my fishing boat, Captain," Frank volunteered. "I'll come get you if you get stuck," Frank said as he gave Simms a sympathetic smile.

Simms smiled. "That's very reassuring."

She turned and motioned to him. "Come with me, Frank, while I gather my things to leave. There's a couple matters I want you to take care of for me while I'm gone."

They were just moving back towards her office when the power went off again.

"Damn it!" Strenlich cursed loudly.

Mary Margaret heard Blake chuckle at Strenlich's reaction, then Strenlich went on to say, "It's probably something those damned construction workers did!"

"Okay, everybody hold tight," Blake said. "I've got a flashlight right here. Don't want any scraped knees from running into office furniture."

The group of cops waited patiently, apparently trusting in Blake's dependable track record of coming through for them in a pinch, though Mary Margaret was a little alarmed that the emergency lighting hadn't automatically kicked on when it should have. She heard the metallic rasp of a drawer opening and then a switch being activated.

She fully expected to have some light in the seconds that followed, but she still stood in complete darkness.

"Now, that's strange," Blake muttered. "There's new batteries in that thing."

"Never fear, Skalany is here," Mary Margaret said as she flicked on a cigarette lighter.

Everyone breathed a little easier with the appearance of that tiny flame of light – everyone except Jody and Peter. They were both uncharacteristically silent. What was more, they had moved to each other's side in the darkness without saying a word to anyone.

Mary Margaret stared at Jody, more than a little puzzled, since Jody had been beside her only moments beforehand. What was more, Jody was now standing in Peter's arms and when Mary Margaret looked at them more closely, they were both crying.

Skalany stepped closer to them. She stopped when she felt a familiar chill to the air and knew something was up. "Ah, not again... " she muttered as her worried gaze caught the captain's eye.

Simms was already moving towards Peter and Jody. Mary Margaret caught up to Simms and together they approached the two of them very slowly, neither one of them wanting to startle Peter or Jody. Mary Margaret heard Strenlich come up behind her and glanced back to see Blake was also moving into position to provide backup if needed.

"Peter? Jody? Are you two all right?" Simms asked gently. They were almost to them and Mary Margaret could see by their expressions they weren't crying from sadness or fear, but more from joy.

Peter was hugging Jody as he cradled her head under his chin and ran his fingers through her hair. He was whispering words of comfort and love into Jody's ear. The tenderness in his movements caused Mary Margaret to pause for a moment.

Aside from being out of character, there was something very different about Peter and Jody – something almost tangible, yet elusive to identify at the same time.

It was as if they were watching another couple who happened to have Jody and Peter's appearances. That thought added to the chill in her bones. When Jody looked up at Peter through tear-filled eyes, there was something so innocent and open in her expression.

Simms didn't seem to have any tolerance for the strange interactions. She shook her head slightly and got back to business at hand. "Detectives, your attention please," she said forcefully.

Peter, with Jody still in his embrace, raised his head slightly and looked at the captain as if seeing her for the first time. He smiled broadly and spoke with a strong southern accent. "I found her at last, madam. I found Abigail. Finally, she's with me again and all is right with the world once more."

And with his words, he rocked Jody more tightly in his arms.

The captain seemed unfazed by the bizarre happenings. She stepped closer and said, "Peter? That's Jody Powell you are holding."

Peter shook his head. "No, this fair maiden is dear Abigail. Meaning no disrespect, madam, my given name is Joseph. Hallelujah, Abigail, we are together again! By the grace of the good Lord above, we are together again!"

Peter laughed out loud, his elation spilling over into his every move. No one else moved for the next few moments as they tried to process what was happening. Mary Margaret was stunned into silence. The man who had just spoken to Simms sounded nothing like the Peter Caine Mary Margaret knew, especially with the inflections of the deep South echoing in his words.

"What the hell is going on here?"

Kermit's no-nonsense voice cut through the riveting atmosphere of the bullpen so abruptly, Mary Margaret almost dropped her flickering lighter. The interruption broke the magical interplay of the moment and just as suddenly, the lights and power came back on again. The next moment, Peter and Jody crumpled to the floor, unconscious.

As people recovered and rushed to help the oblivious detectives, no one said a word. What they had just witnessed had been too weird to consider. Kermit was unaffected by the surging emotions of those around him. He strolled up to the crowd that had gathered around Jody and Peter. He peeked around the assembled shoulders as he said dryly, "I swear, you're a few minutes late to work and you miss everything."

Mary Margaret glared at him, at least until Jody and Peter began to regain consciousness.

"Do you want me to call for paramedics, Captain?" Blake asked, his nearly spent voice, heavy with laryngitis asked of Simms.

"Yes, Blake."

"No, Blake," Peter's own hoarse voice called out, "That won't be necessary."

Simms bristled and she said, "I happen to be the captain of this precinct and I will be the one to make the orders if you please – so, yes, Blake, call them in."

"But, Captain," Peter began.

"Sit tight, Peter. The paramedics will examine both of you," she said, bringing a tensed hand to rub her mouth as she caught Kermit's eye, still a little shell-shocked by what they'd just witnessed.

Mary Margaret knew exactly how she felt as she knelt beside Jody and took Jody's icy hand in hers and tried to rub some more warmth into it. Their recent trip into the bizarre and abnormal didn't look like it was going to stop any time soon.

**oOoOoOoOo**

Skalany, Broderick and Blake placed dozens of emergency candles and lighters around the station house to avoid being caught helpless in another power outage – the kind of outage where even flashlights with fresh batteries failed to work. Simms meant to make sure they were ready if it happened again.

Jody was sitting at her desk. A few hours had passed and she was fiddling around with one of her Halloween decorations that she'd left on her desk the day before – back when life had seemed normal, but that felt like a lifetime ago now. She remembered a conversation she'd with Peter the previous year when she had asked him why he hated Halloween so much.

"I've had enough ghosts and demons in my life, Jody – I don't need to pretend they scare the hell out of me. They do. I've seen them firsthand and most incidents are ones I'd rather block out than celebrate."

At the time, Jody had refused to let Peter play the Grinch of Halloween. "Oh, Peter, Halloween's not just about ghosts and demons... okay, well, maybe to a certain extent, but to the majority of people, it can be great fun. The same people who love to be scared to death at a horror film. But I think Halloween is really about the child in all of us who enjoys playing make-believe every once in a while."

"Well, that may be fun for most people, but I, for one, can live without it. So please feel free to exclude me from the festivities in the future, okay?"

Jody sighed deeply, wondering if these recent incidents involving Abigail and Joseph would ruin Halloween forever for her like Peter's past encounters with ghosts and demons had done for him.

Peter got up to hand Jody a file from a recent case where they'd both had to write a follow-up report. He glanced around warily and Jody knew why. It seemed like his every interaction with her brought on unwanted and intensive attention from everyone else in the bullpen, not that she could blame them.

One glance at Peter told her he really was worried for her. His concern touched her heart. "How are you doing, partner?" Peter asked softly as he squatted beside Jody's chair in an effort to shield their conversation from the others as much as possible.

She reached forward and brushed away an errant strand of hair from his eyes, her hand lingering at his cheek as a sad, almost bittersweet feeling descended upon her.

**oOoOoOoOo**

Mary Margaret shivered in response to the sudden drop in temperature and turned in time to see Joseph raise his left hand and place it over Abigail's, which was still poised at his cheek. Joseph closed his eyes, as if reveling in the physical contact, then he went to a kneeling position in front of Abigail and took her hand in his, holding it close to his heart.

"'_How do I love thee? Let me count the ways... '"_ Joseph smiled broadly as he spoke, raising his voice.

"Damn, here we go again," Mary Margaret said as she slowly moved closer to the loving couple. "Blake, notify the chief and the captain."

Abigail's expression shone with an inner light as she replied in a feigned scolding tone, "I declare, Joseph William Ashbury, you are only reciting my favorite poem so that I will prepare my prized peach cobbler for Sunday's supper dessert."

Joseph used his southern drawl for all he could get as he put out his hands with his palms up in front of the woman before him. "Alas, I must beg absolution, fair lady, for it is true. How can you ever forgive this scoundrel you love so dearly?"

Mary Margaret was distantly aware that Blake had returned with Simms and Strenlich as she watched the interactions of Joseph and Abigail, uncertain of what move she should make. It seemed to her, the gentle teasing was innocent enough. The couple was almost playful in their mutual attraction and it was quite clear the two displaced spirits were deeply in love.

A sudden movement by the couple pulled Mary Margaret's attention back to them. Jody and Peter sagged in each other's arms for a moment before glancing around in bewilderment. Jody put a hand to her temple as if she had a terrible headache. Peter did the same thing as he stood and staggered back to his desk.

Without saying another word, he laid his head on top of his desk and moaned softly, then raised up and met Mary Margaret's concerned gaze. Shaking his head despondently, he shivered, despite the multitude of layers of clothing he was wearing.

It seemed as if the transformations from Jody and Peter to Abigail and Joseph were coming with greater ease and frequency, and lasting longer each time. Mary Margaret rubbed the back of her neck and wondered just exactly what that meant for Jody and Peter. She didn't come up with any good answers.

**oOoOoOoOo**

**Chapter 3**


	4. Chapter 4

**Chapter Four**

The moment Detective Thomas Jefferson Kincaid walked into the precinct with his prisoner, his nerves went on edge. There was a distinct air of danger, something that suggested there was spirit activity inside the station house, perhaps something that involved an evil presence. TJ had dealt with the dark forces before and he didn't relish the thought of another encounter. Yet, he couldn't escape the nagging feeling that people within the building were in trouble.

As soon as he could, he went in search of Captain Simms and Chief Strenlich. "I was only gone for a day and a half. What the hell is going on here?" he muttered under his breath as he went through the bullpen.

The captain and the chief were just leaving Simms' office when TJ caught up with them. "Captain Simms, I need to – "

He stopped when Jody stood suddenly from her desk and began to twirl about in a dance. The scent of roses was strong in the air and the air was frigid. Jody seemed largely ignorant of her surroundings as she focused on her feet and the dance steps, quietly humming a song her body was moving to.

TJ gaped at her in confusion, but a glance around the room told him this wasn't the first time something like this had happened. "Uh-oh, it's twilight zone time again, folks," Skalany said in a singsong voice.

"What does that mean?" he asked Simms and Strenlich.

Before he could get an answer, Peter suddenly slammed a heavy book of mug shots on top of his desk. With its thunderous impact, small items on his desktop scattered across the floor below, but Peter seemed oblivious to the mess he'd just made.

He strode over to Jody, grabbing her roughly by both arms and pulled her close to him as he spoke through clenched teeth, "Woman, do you not see you have the eye of every man in this place?"

Jody was caught by surprise. She stammered for a moment, then said, "What do you mean, Joseph? I was doing nothing unseemly! I was merely practicing the new dance for Saturday night. I want to be able to do it properly when we do the dance in front of everyone."

TJ was more confused than ever, because Peter and Jody sounded nothing like themselves, especially when Jody called Peter Joseph, and he began to connect the encounter unfolding in front of him as being part of what he'd sensed when he'd first entered the building. Displaced spirits. Damn it.

"I will not have a woman of mine carrying on like some cheap harlot!" Peter's voice grew lower as its menacing tone increased.

"I am not yours, Joseph Ashbury! And I may never be yours if you continue to conduct yourself in such a deplorable manner!" Jody spat her words out with vehement disgust.

TJ started to step forward when Peter grabbed Jody's chin with his fingers and squeezed tightly. Her face contorted with obvious discomfort. Others in the room followed TJ's lead, moving closer to intercede.

With their faces almost touching, Peter as Joseph whispered to Jody as Abigail, spacing each word for maximum effect, "You are mine now and forevermore, Abigail Brigham! Don't you _'ever' _forget that!"

Then, strangely, Joseph reacted to the tears streaming down Abigail's reddened face. "Abby, I'm sorry," he said as he released his hold on her as he looked at her in horror, but kept his hand at her cheek. "I am so very sorry. I don't – I don't understand what... or why... I have no explanation for what I just did."

Kermit walked into the bullpen area, still dripping wet from the storm raging outside, and he distracted TJ. When TJ looked back, the spirits had departed, leaving Peter and Jody stunned as they gazed wide-eyed at their close proximity.

Despite his confusion, Peter wiped away Jody's tears with one hand as the other rubbed gently at her chin, then he brought Jody's head to rest under his in a comforting embrace. Both Jody and Peter trembled, probably from the sudden drop in temperature or from being host to uninvited spirits. Whatever the cause, TJ knew it didn't bode well for the two.

Peter staggered away from Jody to lean against a nearby wall. When Jody faltered as well, Mary Margaret stepped forward to wrap an arm around Jody's back. Peter shook his head and closed his eyes, putting a hand to his temple.

TJ licked his lips as he decided this wasn't the first time the two of them had been possessed by the displaced spirits, but that knowledge didn't seem to help Peter or Jody as they reeled in the aftermath of their encounter.

Jody's tearful confusion was tainted with the pain as she held a hand gingerly to her chin, the darkening red spots corresponding to where Joseph's fingers had squeezed hard.

"What just happened here?" Skalany asked incredulously as she rubbed Jody's arm.

The red spots on Jody's chin were rapidly turning into bruises. Mary Margaret shook her head and said, "I thought Abigail and Joseph were head over heels in love. What the hell caused him to go off on her like that?"

"Maybe it was a love gone bad," Kermit said as he remained on the periphery of the group.

Simms stepped forward. "Possibly," she said. "Kermit, I'm glad you're back. We've got some last names for you to run. See what you can find on Abigail Brigham and Joseph William Ashbury."

Kermit nodded and he moved toward his office. "Your wish is my command, Captain. I'll run them through my magic machine right away."

TJ moved closer to Simms, about to ask for more details when Jody spied something on top of her desk. It was a small leather-bound book with a tiny clasp on one side that looked very old. As Jody picked it up and ran her fingers over the binding, she bent to inhale its scent.

"What's that, Jody?" Skalany asked as she leaned closer to her. Jody's clouded expression caused TJ's alarm to grow.

"I – I don't know for sure... I think it might be Abigail's diary. Just don't ask me how I know," she whispered quietly. She handed the book to Skalany, no longer interested in it as she rubbed at her jaw again.

Skalany scanned the first few yellowed pages of the diary and glanced up at Simms in concern. "Captain, I think you better take a look at this."

Simms approached her. "How did it get on Jody's desk?"

"That's the $64,000 question," Skalany said sarcastically.

Jody suddenly reacted. "It was just here, Captain! I don't know how and what's more, I don't care how it got here." She stood and started to leave, only to run right into Peter's outstretched arms where he'd stopped beside her desk.

"It's okay, Jody, we're all feeling pretty frazzled after everything that's happened," he said softly as Jody broke down in tears.

Simms looked at the two, then said, "Jody, I want you and Peter to go home. Now. This is becoming something more than weird. Whatever is happening is beginning to turn ugly and I don't want either of you here to participate in the next installment."

Both Jody and Peter nodded without argument. "How many times has this happened before?" TJ asked, still trying to catch up.

Skalany nodded. "A few times, but never like this."

TJ stared at Jody and Peter again. It seemed the whole affair was wearing thin on their nerves. Peter moved to get his jacket, then stopped, and turned towards Simms. "What about tomorrow, Captain? Or the next day? We can't stay gone forever."

"We'll deal with that tomorrow. Besides, I plan on getting some outside expert advice on the matter."

TJ wondered what type of outside expert advice she'd be seeking, but he didn't linger on the thought. Nodding his head reluctantly, Peter quickly hugged Jody again. As he pulled away, he stared at the dark spots on Jody's chin, which were rapidly turning purple with bruising. Stammering slightly, he said, "God, I'm so sorry, Jody."

"It wasn't you, Peter," Jody said softly.

Simms looked at TJ. "TJ, please take Peter home. Mary Margaret, if you could help get Jody settled, then I want both of you come back here. Hopefully, I'll have a plan in place by then."

TJ nodded, looking at Simms. "Yeah, we need to talk."

Simms rubbed her tongue along the front of her teeth as she faced Strenlich and said, "I'll be out of the office for a while. Call me on my cell phone if you need me. Otherwise, please wait until I get back."

"Understood, Captain."

Peter and Jody had their coats on by then. With a nod, TJ followed Peter out into the rain with Jody and Skalany close behind them. It seemed like the storm was getting worse. TJ didn't say a word, lost in his own thoughts as he tried to figure out the best way to help his coworkers.

**oOoOoOoOo**

Karen Simms approached the kwoon of Kwai Chang Caine, praying that the Shaolin priest was home. Since the man saw no need for locks, entry was relatively simple. She climbed the stairs and knocked nervously at the open doorway.

"Captain Simms, it is good to see you again," Caine said as he went to greet her after setting down his teapot.

"Yes, Caine, as with you. I only wish that it was under more pleasant circumstances."

"Please join me for some tea and we will talk."

Karen followed him over to a table with two cups of tea already poured. "Are you expecting company? I'm sorry, I just barged in here."

Caine smiled and bowed. "My only guest is yourself. Please be seated."

Simms shook off her disconcertion of Caine's mystical ways and did as he requested.

"You are worried about my son and his partner."

Karen's gaze latched onto Caine's and she bypassed the usual 'how did you know' type questions. "Yes, can you help them?"

"I do not know for certain. It is more than simply helping Peter and Jody. There are souls trapped in limbo there at the station house... souls chained to that place, unable to move forward."

Karen nodded and asked, "I repeat, can you help them? Can you help all of them?"

"I believe so, " Caine said as he straightened his shoulders and met her gaze. "I have been in deep meditation since I first sensed their presence, trying to find the best way to deal with the situation. I now know how I must prepare myself for their next encounter. It is most disturbing that I was not aware of Peter's danger from these entities until after the fact. Whenever this spirit occupied Peter's body, I simply lost contact with him – almost as if Peter's essence had blinked out of existence for a length of time."

"Is there anything you can do to change that?" Simms asked, intrigued by Caine's openness.

"I believe so. If I had been fully concentrating on him at the moment of transference, I might have been able to detect the problem earlier. By altering my meditative process, I will be able to _'fine-tune' _my abilities in order to sense the next occurrence as it happens. Captain, there may be other items I will need in order to bring everyone back into harmony."

"Whatever you need, if it's legal and within my power, I will get it for you. Just let me know."

"I will not know what items I will require with any certainty until I observe these spirits in action. I will arrive at your precinct tomorrow morning and we will begin."

Karen sat back in her seat and toyed with her tea cup for a moment. "I've sent both Jody and Peter home for the day. Their presence was disruptive to work in general – and their encounters have become physical."

Caine nodded, but then he shook his head. "Having them away from the station will not solve the current problem, but only delay the inevitable. From the level of contact between them, the spirits have become so intimate with Peter and Jody that they will undoubtedly be visited by the displaced souls again tonight in their dreams."

Karen bit her lip. "So these spirits have chosen Jody and Peter to possess for a reason?"

Caine nodded again.

Karen pressed on. "In an attempt to resolve some unfinished matter from their past?"

"That would be an accurate assessment. Your sensitivity to matters of a spiritual nature have grown, Captain Simms," Kwai Chang said as he poured them both some more tea.

Karen resisted the urge to sigh. Being around the Caines had taught her to keep a more open mind when it came to spiritual issues. Caine's expression grew grimmer as he said, "I believe I have sensed a third spirit, but its presence has been more elusive and is difficult to identify."

Karen gaped at him for a moment. "A third spirit?"

He nodded, but said no more. She sighed and said, "Okay, I will make arrangements so Peter and Jody will not be alone tonight."

Caine smiled and met the police captain's gaze. "Very good. When you speak with my son, will you please inform him that I will need to be in mediation this evening in preparation for tomorrow and I will unable to be with him? I trust in his friends' ability to see him safely through the night."

Simms nodded. "Yes, I would be happy to pass along that message. Anything else?"

"I will need both Peter and Jody to be there tomorrow. For without their presence, I fear the haunting of your precinct will only continue to worsen. And it will definitelyturn... more ugly, as you would say."

Simms nodded, then sipped her tea in silent reflection. "Very well, I will have everyone there, but this must end tomorrow."

"I agree, Captain Simms. One way or another, it will end tomorrow."

Caine's grim words shook her confidence in him for some odd reason, but she didn't question him about it. The solemn tone of that moment stayed with her as she returned to the precinct. She was halfway there when she slapped the steering wheel of her car.

"Oh, good heavens! Tomorrow is Halloween! What a day to schedule an exorcism! What in the hell were you thinking, Karen Simms?"

She sighed deeply and returned to the precinct, but lingered in silent dread for the coming day.

**oOoOoOoOo**

**Chapter 4**


	5. Chapter 5

**October 31****st**

**Halloween**

**Chapter Five**

Mary Margaret happened to look up from her paperwork she was leaving for Sergeant Broderick at the front desk when she saw Captain Simms come through the entrance. The captain always had an air of poise and control about her, but after battling the storm outside, she looked more than a little bedraggled and very water-logged.

"That's some storm system we've got going out there," Mary Margaret said in commiseration. "Want me to take your umbrella?"

Simms nodded gratefully as she handed over the umbrella. Mary Margaret shook it as Simms removed the scarf from her head and opened her coat. "I'll put this with the other umbrellas while you hang your coat on the rack," Mary Margaret said as she glanced back over her shoulder while walking toward the side room they used to hold bad weather gear. "Do you want a cup of coffee?"

"No, thank you. No time for coffee," Simms said briskly.

Mary Margaret darted into the room to deposit the umbrella and came right back out. Something was going on, Skalany knew that much by the set of the captain's jaw.

Simms was just finishing with her coat when Mary Margaret returned. The captain started down the hallway, heading away from the conference room where everyone was waiting. Mary Margaret frowned for a moment. She wasn't sure if she should follow Simms or return to the conference room, but then Simms glanced back toward her and said, "Walk with me."

When Mary Margaret fell into step beside her, Simms asked, "How did Jody and Peter fare last night?"

Mary Margaret shook her head. "Not good. I was up with Jody most of the night. She was having horrible dreams and from what I gather from TJ, Peter had them, too."

Simms nodded. "I was afraid of that."

They turned a corner and entered one of the interrogation rooms. "Why are we going here?" Skalany asked as Simms pulled the door open.

Simms let out a long breath. "You don't even want to know."

The tech guy, Mary Margaret thought his name was Harold or Henry or something like that, was in the process of popping a tape out of a VCR. He nodded to Simms as she came to a stop beside him and held out the tape to her. "It's queued to the right point. Just put in the tape and hit play."

Simms hesitated before she took the tape from him. "How bad is it?"

The tech guy shrugged. "It's no _'Debbie Does Dallas'_, if that's what you're afraid of. Mostly a lot of flirting, but if I was one of those people, I'd be upset knowing there's a recording of me flirting like that, especially when it – well, when it isn't really me – or them – or whatever."

He scratched the back of his neck as he paused. "Both Caine and Powell are good detectives and decent people. I'm just glad I was the one to find it instead of one of the idiots we have around this place."

Simms nodded. "Thanks, Hank, I'll be discreet with it."

Then she turned and left the room. Mary Margaret scrambled to stay on her heels. "A tape? Captain, there's a tape of Jody and Peter?"

Simms didn't answer right away. She frowned, wearing the same kind of long-suffering expression she usually had when she was about to meet with Commissioner Kincaid. "You'll see soon enough. Is everyone gathered?"

It took all Mary Margaret had to answer Simms' question without asking several of her own. Finally, she nodded. "Yeah, everyone's in the conference room, except Caine – "

She stopped when they arrived back at the front desk just in time to see Caine enter the precinct with a huge gust of wind and rain.

"Caine, we were about to begin," Simms said.

Caine nodded, bowing slightly. "I came as quickly as I could."

Simms put out a hand to usher him forward. "We're meeting in the conference room." She glanced over at Mary Margaret. "Did you bring the diary with you?"

Mary Margaret nodded. "I had a lot of time on my hands last night and read most of it."

Simms sighed. "I hope everyone else is as well prepared. We need every edge we can find to beat this."

Everyone looked up as the three of them entered the room. Simms didn't waste any time. "Peter, Jody, I heard you had a tough night last night."

Peter and Jody just looked away in response. Simms continued, "We'll do our best to ensure you get a better night's sleep tonight."

She looked at the others. "Thank you all for meeting here. We have several items to discuss. Kermit, if you could start us off with the information you've uncovered," she said as she sat down.

Kermit waited until all three of them were situated before he began. He typed something into his computer and said, "I'll begin by introducing you to Abigail Brigham and Joseph Ashbury." A weathered picture appeared on the large screen at the head of the room with the images of a man and a woman.

Mary Margaret stared with interest at the old black-and-white photos, instantly seeing a vague resemblance between them and Peter and Jody. It was a little creepy, to be honest, but then they seemed to be writing the book on weird lately.

Kermit continued as he added a third image to the screen. "This is Zebidiah Bixler, who was Abigail's legal guardian. Apparently, Zebidiah Bixler had posted a reward for information about Abigail or Joseph after the two of them had disappeared suddenly. He had the posters printed and distributed throughout the state, which included a photograph of both of them."

Kermit tapped some keys and the old poster replaced the other pictures on the screen. He paused and looked up at Simms. "I don't know how detailed you want this to be," he said.

Simms gestured with her head. "You're doing fine. Please, continue."

He put up another picture of Abigail. She was much younger in this photo. "Abigail Brigham was born in 1876 to Mary and William Brigham. The well-to-do Bixler family employed both of Abigail's parents as butler and maid in their expansive mansion. Three years later, Mary and William were both killed in a train accident, leaving the child an orphan with no other living family. Abigail was raised as Zebidiah's ward at the request of his mother, Pearl Mae Bixler. Pearl Mae died a few years later due to a stroke, but by then, young Abigail was already the apple of Zebidiah's eye."

Kermit replaced Abigail's picture with another one of Joseph. "Joseph Ashbury was born in New Orleans, Louisiana in 1870 and had moved to town in 1890 to work directly under Zebidiah Bixler in the construction of the city's proposed underground transit system. Apparently, Bixler had seen potential in the young man and took an almost fatherly interest in seeing Joseph's career progress."

He changed the picture back to the one with the poster. "We know that Abigail Brigham and Joseph Ashbury had both disappeared in 1892. Everyone at the time assumed the couple had eloped and settled elsewhere. Zebidiah eventually developed the city's first subway system years later. He married and had three children, but by all accounts he was never really the same man after Abigail disappeared."

Simms nodded and turned to Mary Margaret. "Mary Margaret, would you please share what you found from reading Abigail's diary?"

Mary Margaret took a deep breath to gather her thoughts, then said, "Joseph and Abigail loved each other and were secretly planning to marry. There's no disputing that, but theirs was a tumultuous relationship, one that often ended in arguments."

"Drama," Blake said simply.

Mary Margaret nodded as she picked up the diary. "This is Abigail's last entry,_ 'If only Joseph could control his temper. It seems as if he spends most of his time these days angry, especially when it involves matters with Zebidiah. Joseph has such a good heart, but his temper scares me at times. I cannot wait until we are away from this town and have started our new life together.'_"

"So, his temper was an issue," Strenlich said quietly. "Things might have grown more physical. I mean, look at what we saw happen in the bullpen. It wouldn't be a stretch of the imagination to consider things might have gone bad and instead of eloping, Abigail died."

Mary Margaret frowned without answering him. It was possible, but didn't feel right for some reason. She tapped the diary on the table with her finger a few times. "She also mentioned something I didn't expect. There's a few entries where she seemed confused by a change in Zebidiah's feelings towards her. Things got muddier. She wrote that Zebidiah and Joseph both resented the other for being in Abigail's life – like they were both trying to vie for her affection. Abigail was only sixteen, so unless she stood up for herself, the prevailing mindset for that time left major decisions in the hands of the menfolk."

She looked up at the others. "It might have been a lover's triangle scenario. Joseph and his documented jealousy might have reacted to Bixler's attention towards Abigail. It might have been enough to cause an angry confrontation." She shrugged. "Yeah, it could have been something like that with Abigail paying the price with her life."

There was a long contemplative silence in the group before Simms said, "Thank you, Mary Margaret."

Simms sighed deeply and Mary Margaret knew what she was thinking of – the recorded tape – and how Peter and Jody would react to it. "One last item and this is more for Caine's benefit than anything else, so he can witness for himself the interactions between Abigail and Joseph."

She paused, looking very reluctant to continue, but she finally did, "I was made aware of something this morning on my way to work. Peter, Jody, the following may be too disturbing for you. If so, please feel free to leave the room at any time."

Peter and Jody looked alarmed, but it was obvious they had no idea what Simms was referring to. The captain's voice took on an especially compassionate tone as she explained, "Hank Jennings from data storage called me on my cell phone this morning to say he'd discovered something at the end of a taped video interview between TJ and one of his suspects. What caught his eye and why he brought it to my attention was that it involves Peter and Jody – or rather Joseph and Abigail.

"Apparently, TJ had left the room with his video camera running. Jody and Peter came into the interrogation room before TJ returned. They were there for more than a few minutes. Their behavior was... atypical and having heard of our recent encounters, Jennings contacted me."

Simms met Peter and Jody's wide-eyed gaze. "I've been assured the encounter was basically innocent."

Peter and Jody didn't relax much with Simms' attempt to ease their concerns. She gave them a reassuring smile before she put the video tape into the conference room's VCR.

"It's queued to the proper point in the VCR. I repeat, if you want to leave or if this disturbs you in the least, we can stop the tape."

Both Jody and Peter looked uncomfortable, but they nodded for her to proceed. Simms hit the play button and stepped back to watch. Mary Margaret found herself drawn to the monitor with the sight of Jody and Peter behaving so unlike themselves, especially knowing the souls of long ago deceased people were using gestures and mannerisms that were not Jody and Peter's way.

To their credit, Jody and Peter watched the first minute or two without comment, but then the overhead lights flickered and the temperature dropped twenty degrees in a matter of seconds. Mary Margaret started to glance up to look at the lights when she noticed a subtle change come over Peter and she knew he wasn't Peter at any longer – he was Joseph and Joseph was looking at Jody, but Jody wasn't Jody anymore.

Joseph's expression darkened as he stared at Abigail. "I told you not to tell anyone about our plans!"

Abigail's chin jutted out. "And I told you that you can't order me about as if I'm your slave!"

Joseph stood up and pushed away from his chair so quickly the chair hit the wall behind him with a loud clattering noise. Abigail followed him to her feet, then cowered when Joseph spun and raised his clenched fist into the air as if to hit her.

"Go ahead! Strike me if you must! But, mind you, Zebidiah will not stand for your abuse!"

Mary Margaret glanced at Caine and saw him observing the supernatural exchange going on before them, then he stood and raised his hands in the air. He closed his eyes and seemed to center himself before saying, "Enough! Leave them now!"

Both Peter and Jody slumped for a moment, then they looked around, more than a little disoriented. Shuddering, Jody drew her arms around her. Mary Margaret wasn't sure if it was from the cold or fear. Mary Margaret slipped off her jacket and draped it over Jody's shoulders. Peter ran a shaky hand through his hair before he met his father's gaze. Kwai Chang let out a deep breath, but he looked a little tired from his effort.

Simms shook her head and asked, "Is that all there was to it, Caine?"

Instead of nodding to agree, Caine looked away and bowed his head. "No," he said quietly. "Unfortunately, it was not."

Mary Margaret caught a slight shake of TJ's head and wondered what that was about, but before she could ask, Caine said, "I am sorry, Captain, but _'it'_ is far from over. There is much yet to do. I must gather some crucial supplies from Lo Si's apartment, but I will return shortly."

Simms' lips twisted in disappointment. "Well, you did warn me there might be other things you would need, but I would be lying if I said the delay isn't frustrating."

Simms looked over at TJ. "Go with him. Help speed things along as much as you can and get back here ASAP."

TJ and Caine left the room without another word. As the rest of them lingered in the conference room, Mary Margaret eyed Peter and Jody. Halloween was upon them, whether anyone wanted to acknowledge the date or not.

**oOoOoOoOo**

Milo Milanski took a bite of his corned beef and rye sandwich as they sat during their lunch break. They were back at work again with the scheduled renovations in the precinct's newly discovered lower level, but the mysterious brick wall plagued Milo. His mind just wouldn't let go of what might be behind it.

"Jaime, what if – what if it's... like there's some buried treasure back there and we've just been walking around a fortune for days? How can you live with a thought like that floating around in your head and not do anything about it?" he asked as Jaime poured coffee from a Thermos into his cup.

Jaime shrugged and rolled his eyes. "Pfft, yeah, right. Like that's gonna happen to a couple of guys like us. Get your head out of the clouds and just stick to the job we've got to do."

Milo sighed deeply. Jaime smiled, as if he had a sudden inspiration, and said, "Okay, think of it this way, smart ass – what if there's some curse on it? Just remember King Tut's tomb and how everyone who was there when it was opened died."

Milo set his sandwich inside his lunch pail. "Well, I'm willing to take on a curse. How about you?"

Jaime's expression grew incredulous. Obviously, that was not the response he'd anticipated. "Ah, shit, Milanski! George would have our hides nailed to that brick wall just for thinking of doing this without proper authorization."

Milo leaned closer and whispered, "It doesn't have to be a big hole. We can tell him it was an accident."

Jaime's eyes widened in disbelief. "An accident? Geez... George wouldn't fall for that."

"He would if we said we found a hole in that section by the wall where the mortar was eroding and wanted to see how extensive the problem was."

Jaime shook his head, but it seemed as if his resolve was weakening.

Milo pressed on with a matter-of-fact tone. "It's okay. If you're not man enough to check this out, fine by me. I mean, you _'are' _the boss while George is gone to talk with the big-wigs."

Jaime sighed, then scratched his furrowed forehead in utter frustration. "Man, I need to have my head examined."

He ran a hand through his thick, dark hair and sighed. "Okay, but we're only spending break time on it. And if anyone complains... "

"It's your head that rolls, brother!" Milo exclaimed as he slapped Jaime on the back. "Okay, guys, we only have ten minutes, let's see what damage we can do."

It actually only took less than five minutes before the brick wall that had stood for over one hundred years was breached. Because he was the boss at the moment, Jaime had the honor of being the first to shine his flashlight through the gaping wound of aged bricks to see what was on the other side.

When Jaime frowned and remained in place, Milo leaned close and whispered, "What do you see, Jaime? More skeletons?"

Jaime swallowed and stepped back as he shook his head, "Close, Milo, too damned close. It looks – it looks like there's a goddamned casket in there."

The other guys pressed forward to peek through the crevice.

"Geez! Damned if he ain't right, Milo... all that's in there is just one casket in that whole danged room. Weird. That's just too frigging weird if you ask me," Kenny Conners muttered as he joined Jaime and Milo.

After a moment, Jaime said, "I guess I better go make sure that's what it is. And if it is a casket, then we'll have to notify the people upstairs again."

"Are we getting hazard pay on this gig, Jaime?" Kenny asked, sounding as if was only half kidding.

Jaime grunted. "Hurry back," Milo added as he slapped Jaime on the shoulder.

"Anyone want to come with me?" Jaime asked, sounding more scared than lonely.

Milo smiled ruthlessly as every member of the crew took one step back in unison. Jaime shook his head and sighed. "Okay, okay, I get the message. I'm in charge and I'll do it, but I'm not hanging around in there – I'll tell you that much right now."

He turned and lifted a leg to step through the hole in the wall and slowly advanced upon the casket. Milo watched as Jaime rubbed his palms together, then hesitantly reached forward. The very moment that Jaime's right hand lifted the lid to the rough-hewn wooden casket, a mighty whirlwind swept through the empty room. It rushed up towards the opening to the basement, almost as if it had a predetermined destination in mind.

Milo cursed under his breath when the maelstrom of cold air knocked all of them off their feet as it swept by. It was so cold and so fast, it nearly froze Milo's blood in his veins and rattled his nerves something fierce.

To Milo's credit, he didn't think twice as he scrambled back to his feet and dove through the brick opening the very moment their flashlights powered up again. He raced to Jaime's body, lifted him over his shoulder, and brought him back out again in the same time span in which most people used to breathe in and to breathe out.

Kenny was on his hand mike, calling for paramedics as Milo carefully laid Jaime on the ground, cursing under his breath. "God, I swear I'll never make another stupid dare as long as I live, just let Jaime come out of this okay," Milo whispered as he tugged off his jacket and laid it across Jaime's still form.

Kenny finished his call and knelt beside Milo and Jaime. "King Tut's tomb? Shit, Milo, you've cursed us again," Kenny muttered as he picked up Jaime's limp right hand. He glanced up at Milo in concern. "He's ice cold, Milo, just like those cops the other day... "

Milo shook his head. He didn't even want to think about what had just happened, let alone the madness from the other day. "Stop talking, Kenny, just pull off your jacket and put it over mine. Come on, guys, we gotta warm him up fast."

Kenny nodded and shrugged out of his jacket, along with the rest of the guys, but Milo knew not talking about it didn't make his guilt any less pressing. In fact, it probably made it a lot worse.

**oOoOoOoOo**

"Hey, Skalany," Kermit called out from the doorway of his office. "Tell me you made that pot of coffee and not Blake. I need a refill, but my stomach just isn't up to another cup of gut rot."

Mary Margaret smiled. "I made it, but drink it at your own risk."

Kermit grunted as Mary Margaret glanced at her watch.

Caine had left with TJ a hour ago and still hadn't returned. She looked up in alarm when Jody and Peter froze in place. A moment later, a swirling whirlwind whipped through the bullpen. The sudden wind picked up loose papers and other miscellaneous debris to add to its chaotic vortex as it knocked everyone from their feet with its rushing icy gusts.

Windows rumbled violently, as if they were on the brink of shattering. The power popped off again as it had the previous day. Mary Margaret thought she heard a muffled cry coming from Kermit's direction, but it was hard to tell for sure in the surrounding mayhem. When she glanced over at him, Kermit was on the floor beside his doorway and not moving. She started to get to her feet, intending to go to him, but paused when the winds that were blasting around the room suddenly went still.

Mary Margaret's breathing came in rapid gasps in the aftermath. Her shaky hands moved to grab her desk for support, then she moved up onto wobbly knees in the frightening darkness that still surrounded them. Strenlich's voice was much firmer than Mary Margaret could ever hope for as he ordered, "People, call out. I want a role call now."

People started to sound off, shouting their names in a semi-orderly fashion, each response spaced out enough to be understandable. Mary Margaret fumbled around in her pocket until she found her lighter, muttering to herself, "Light, we need light."

It was a hell of a lot easier to focus on lighting up the room than to try and figure out what the hell was going on. Ghostly encounters were definitely out of her area of expertise. After all, that was Caine's job.

She flicked on the lighter. The tiny beam that appeared barely gave any illumination to the room at all, but she held it high as she stood, as if light alone would restore order to the chaos around her.

"Joseph? I'm scared," came the sound of Jody's voice with the inflictions of a sixteen year-old girl.

"Don't worry. I'm right here, Abigail," Joseph answered and Mary Margaret was surprised at how they had moved near each other in the brief moments they were shrouded in darkness.

Strenlich called, "Blake, are the phones working? Kermit's down. Better call for an ambulance if they are."

Turning, Mary Margaret could see Strenlich kneeling beside Kermit's slumped body in the doorway of his office. Damn, she'd forgotten about him when Joseph and Abigail made another appearance. She stepped closer when Strenlich said, "Kermit's ice cold."

Strenlich took off his suit coat and draped it over Kermit just as Kermit groaned. "Hang in there. Help is on the way," he said as he patted Kermit on the shoulder.

It was difficult to keep track of everything that was going on. In those few moments while she'd been focused on Strenlich and Kermit, she'd lost track of Joseph and Abigail, but as she tuned in, their conversation had gone from comforting to angry.

Another nasty argument was brewing and it was escalating quickly. Mary Margaret worried it would go physical at any moment.

"Don't you dare raise your voice to me, Joseph Ashbury!"

"I'll do whatever I want to do," Joseph sneered.

When Joseph brought his face close to Abigail's, she slapped him harshly across the mouth with enough force to split his lip. Blood poured from the cut and Joseph dabbed at it with his fingertips in disbelief as he raised a closed fist, preparing to strike back.

The others rushed forward to stop him, but none of them had a chance of being there in time to prevent an attack when a forceful shout came from Kermit's doorway, something which stopped everything. "Ashbury!"

Mary Margaret jumped in surprise, then spun around to see it was Kermit who had done the shouting.

"Ashbury!" Kermit bellowed Joseph's last name again, louder this time and with more vehemence.

Mary Margaret looked back to where Kermit had been lying unconscious, only to see Strenlich's discarded coat. Her alarmed gaze returned to Kermit, who was standing only a few feet away from her – but it wasn't Kermit Griffin who stood with his fists on his hips, his feet apart in a defiant stance, and an expression of pure contempt written upon his lips. No, it was someone else altogether.

"Zebidiah!" Joseph exclaimed, turning away from Abigail.

The someone else was now identified. Kermit was Zebidiah Bixler, Abigail's guardian.

Joseph's whole persona shifted from lover's wrath to seething, murderous hatred in a heartbeat. He turned and lunged at Zebidiah with such rage, it was obvious Joseph meant to kill Zebidiah with his bare hands. The very moment Joseph touched Zebidiah, light bulbs throughout the room exploded with a fiery display of sparks and flying glass, then all three possessed bodies went limp, dropping to the ground in a state of semiconsciousness, as if they'd all been hit by a stun gun.

**oOoOoOoOo**

There was an eerie silence present in the devastated bullpen as Skalany, Blake, and Strenlich knelt beside the three unmoving detectives to check them. Karen held a hand to her mouth in bewilderment. Now, Kermit was involved. She stared at him with deep concern. She could handle the cold spells, power outages, or other strange occurrences she'd seen, but knowing another person under her command, especially Kermit, had just fallen victim to this ongoing nightmare was almost more than she could tolerate.

Caine, she thought, Caine had to know what to do. She'd let him handle the metaphysical end of things while she dealt with the practical side of it.

"Blake, did you get through to emergency services?" she asked with as much authority as she could muster. Even so, she could hear shock still echoing in her voice.

"They're already on their way, ma'am," someone said before Blake could answer.

She spun around to view a tall, lanky blonde-headed construction worker. "And you are...?"

"Sorry, Milo Milanski with the Public Works detail. Something's happened down below. We found another body, but this one was in a casket. We, uh, found it behind that brick wall down there."

Milanski looked strangely uncomfortable as he mentioned the body's location.

"I see... and when did you find the third body?" Simms asked pensively, but she already knew the answer.

"Just a couple of minutes ago. We've also got a man down. That's why I wasn't able to come up right away."

"Very well, we will direct the paramedics down to your location when they arrive."

The construction worker left quickly with a nod.

"Doesn't take a rocket scientist to put two and two together on that one," Karen said grimly as she shook her head in frustration.

_'Caine, where the hell are you? You were supposed to be here for this!'_

**oOoOoOoOo**


	6. Chapter 6

**Chapter Six**

The severity of the storm made travel through the city's flooded streets slow for TJ and Caine. It had taken them an hour just to get to Lo Si's apartment. TJ strummed his fingers on the steering wheel in frustration. Hell, they could have walked to there faster, but then they'd be even more cold, wet and miserable.

TJ glanced over at the Shaolin priest. "Caine, can I ask what exactly we are going for? Is it really worth leaving Peter and Jody at the precinct while the supernatural forces there gain even more strength?" he asked tentatively.

TJ hadn't meant to challenge Peter's father with his question, he was just looking for verification that they were doing the right thing – he didn't want to lose Peter or Jody just because they weren't there at some crucial moment.

Caine smiled at TJ. "You are a good man to care so much about your friends. Yes, I believe the risk of leaving them is well worth the value we gain by gathering the proper materials to finally put an end to the spirit activity at the precinct. What I seek is an ancient tool that is in Master Lo Si's possession. It will help focus and amplify my own abilities to communicate with those spirits. Its presence is vital to our success."

TJ nodded, his anxiety level dropping considerably with Kwai Chang's reassuring words.

TJ licked his lips. "Then you've dealt with situations like this before?" he asked as he kept his eyes on the hazardous road.

"Situations like this? No, I have not."

TJ felt shaken by Caine's honesty as he glanced back at him. He was surprised to see Kwai Chang still smiling at him before the man added, "Have faith, Thomas Jefferson, we have good odds of guiding these spirits back to their proper path."

TJ was hesitant before he said, "I – I wish there was more I could have done to help. I've dealt with pure evil before. I should have been able to help – "

Caine placed a kind hand upon Kincaid's forearm to stop him, "You helped my son through a difficult time last night. You sensed the presence of those spirits almost immediately upon your arrival at the precinct. You most certainly have a gift. Realize your strengths to allow those gifts to grow. We will each do our part today to accomplish what we need to do."

TJ smiled gratefully and nodded as he drove, then the two men dropped into an extended silence. Caine was apparently lost in thought and TJ wasn't about to disturb Caine's concentration at this point – lives depended upon Caine's focus.

They finally arrived at Lo Si's apartment. Soon, Caine had gathered the last of the items he said he needed when he suddenly cried out and sagged a little. TJ was beside him in an instant, along with Lo Si, and helped to steady him. Caine pushed him away after a moment and looked at Lo Si with concern.

"Master, I must hurry, things are progressing faster than I anticipated. A third unsettled spirit has manifested itself at the precinct. Peter and his friends are in great danger," Caine said breathlessly.

"Yes, I agree, and I will accompany you. You will need assistance," Lo Si said firmly, trying to mask the hoarseness of his cold-ravaged voice.

"No, Master, the weather is not safe for a man ailing with illness as yourself. Stay. I will have assistance." Kwai Chang smiled as he glanced toward TJ still hovering at his elbow. "We must leave now."

"Very well, Kwai Chang Caine, but I will be with you in spirit." Caine bowed before Lo Si before leaving with TJ. TJ carried everything except an odd-sized brass dish. Given the way Caine clutched it tightly, it was very important to him.

"We must hurry," Caine said to TJ as they descended the stairs to the entrance to Lo Si's building and walked out into the storm.

**oOoOoOoOo**

The paramedics had arrived at the precinct, but left with only the unconscious construction worker. Peter, Jody, and Kermit had all refused treatment. Karen watched them closely. They were up with blankets tightly wrapped around their shoulders for an additional layer of warmth.

Though no one had made any direct orders, Skalany stayed with Jody while Blake was with Peter and Frank watched over Kermit. Karen figured as a burly ex-marine, Frank might have the best chance of standing against the ex-merc in a head-to-head battle. None of the three victims were happy to have baby-sitters, but they understood their necessity.

Without warning, Peter stood and started yelling at Jody, but in reality it was Joseph yelling at Abigail. Mary Margaret uttered a quick "uh-oh" before Abigail yelled back at him.

Joseph feigned to his left as Blake went to clamp a calming hand on Joseph's shoulder, then easily flipped a surprised Blake over the desk behind him. Three long strides and Joseph was almost to Abigail's side. Skalany tried to block his access. With little more than a second thought, Joseph backhanded Skalany across another desk.

When he spun around to grab Abigail, she was gone, on her way toward Kermit's office. Kermit's door was sitting ajar, but it flew open right before Abigail breached its threshold. Zebidiah greeted Abigail as she ran into his open arms. He took a closer look at the young woman, taking special note of the dark bruises on her face and her trembling fear, then glared at Joseph with an unearthly rage.

"I will kill him for this!" Zebidiah bellowed.

Upon seeing Zebidiah's reaction, Abigail backed away from him as if in sudden fear. She put a hand in Joseph's direction and screamed, "Be careful, Joseph!"

Zebidiah started toward Joseph, who was already on his way to meet him. The two possessed men met in the middle of the room and the moment they made physical contact, the windows throughout the room shattered in an explosion of flying glass.

Karen and the others rushed forward, intent on separating the two men, but it wasn't until Zebidiah managed to get a vice-like grip around Joseph's neck and began to choke him that they were able to approach. Unfortunately, they couldn't break his hold and Joseph's face was turning from deep red to dark purple.

Karen finally pulled out her service revolver and slugged Kermit across one temple with only a little regret. _'Sorry about this, Kermit, but you'll thank me for not letting you kill Peter when you wake up.'_

She gasped when she saw her strong blow had no effective on Zebidiah's rage.

**oOoOoOoOo**

Kwai Chang and TJ came rushing in, despite the heavy load they carried in their arms. Every moment counted now. Setting down the brass dish, Kwai Chang stretched out both hands and cried, "CEASE THIS NOW!"

To everyone's amazement, the spirits heeded his words and vacated the bodies of their victims. There was a momentary sigh of relief in the room before Kwai Chang sensed a roiling tension in the air – a lingering energy from the battling spirits' ugly confrontation.

Unfortunately, there was no time to dwell on unseen dangers. People were hurt this time, just how seriously was yet to be seen. A quick survey of the area showed that despite all the broken glass littering the floor, people's hair, and clothing, there were very few individuals with more than just superficial cuts and scratches. It was indeed a miracle.

Kwai Chang knelt at his son's side. Peter was coughing violently, trying desperately to get air into his lungs, but he wasn't succeeding very much. Kwai Chang swallowed hard when he saw the very visible set of marks bruising Peter's neck. He reached into his satchel and pulled out some herbs. He quickly placed them under Peter's tongue, then waved his outstretched hands slowly over his son's body again to discern the full extent of Peter's injuries.

When he was done, Caine concentrated for another moment, then he began to transfer some of his _chi _into Peter's body to speed his recovery. Within moments, Peter was breathing better. That, in turn, allowed the others a sigh of relief.

Peter's eyelids fluttered open and he smiled gratefully at Kwai Chang. He placed a hand on Kwai Chang's shoulder, letting it linger there before it slipped away and fell back to the ground as Peter's eyes closed again in exhausted relief.

Kwai Chang glanced at Kermit and he was relieved to see Kermit was beginning to regain consciousness, too. Kermit blinked and looked around in confusion before his gaze settled on Peter's new injuries, then his expression tightened.

Blake moved closer to Kermit, squatting down beside Kermit and smiled. "Glad to see you back with the living... "

"I do all this?" Kermit asked weakly as he waved a limp hard towards the injured and the mess in the room.

Anyone else in the room might have incorrectly assumed Kermit had been joking with another one of his sarcastic remarks, but Blake simply replied, "No, I think we can safely say this was a group effort."

That seemed to appease Kermit for a moment before he rubbed his fingers across his bruised temple and muttered, "Just what the hell does that mean?"

"It means take another minute to rest up before I drop the latest developments on you," Blake said softly as he patted Kermit on the shoulder.

**oOoOoOoOo**

Of course, Peter refused to be seen by the paramedics. Peter was nothing if not stubborn. At least, he was breathing better, though Kwai Chang thought Peter's voice still sounded a lot like the jazz great, Louie Armstrong, with a bad case of laryngitis.

Peter was slumped at his desk, his head resting on his arms, and Kwai Chang took the opportunity to gather the discarded possessions he and TJ had brought with them from Lo Si's apartment.

Kwai Chang felt an ominous presence and he glanced at TJ, whose gaze was already darting around the area with apprehension. TJ cleared his voice and asked, "Something's wrong – "

The oppressive tension in the area was so strong, the very air seemed hard to breathe and was rapidly turning frigid. Kwai Chang knew they were due for another ghostly visit. He called out in warning, despite the futility he felt in his heart, "No, spirits, you must not do this. I am not your enemy. Please, listen, I am here to help – "

The suffocating pressure that had been building in the air around them suddenly manifested itself and the ensuing explosion rocked the building. Kwai Chang managed to push TJ away before the ceiling above them gave way, trapping Kwai Chang under its extensive rubble.

**oOoOoOoOo**

Karen was the first to notice the absence of Jody and Peter as the work crews struggled to find a way to move the rubble away from Caine without making his situation worse. Karen worried where the two had gone. She had no doubt they'd left as Joseph and Abigail. Someone would have to track them down and watch over them.

"Chief, you handle this. I've got to find Powell and Caine."

Strenlich turned slightly towards her and nodded, then went back to freeing Kwai Chang from the rubble that had him buried. Grabbing Skalany, Simms gestured for her to follow her down to the basement.

"Why are we going down there?" Skalany asked after a moment.

"Call it a sixth sense, women's intuition, or a cop's gut instinct, but this is my best guess where they went," she said as they entered the stairwell leading to the basement.

**oOoOoOoOo**

While Strenlich, Blake, and the others were involved in trying to extricate Caine from the rubble, Kermit slowly sat up. His right temple throbbed. He sensed someone at his side and looked over to see Kincaid. "Just sit tight, Kermit," Kincaid said softly as he tried to push back down, but Kermit wouldn't budge.

Suddenly, the rubble shifted, alarming the rescuers for Caine's safety. Kermit went to get up and again Kincaid tried to hold him back. Kermit held one hand to his battered temple and yelled, "Damn, Kincaid! If you won't let me help, then you better get over there to help them before I shoot you to get you out of my way!"

Looking at the others struggling, Kincaid glanced at Kermit one more time before he nodded his head. "Okay, Kermit, I'll go help them, but you gotta promise to stay put."

"Get the hell out of my face and go!" Kermit swore as Kincaid ran to help the others.

As Kermit forced himself to his knees, he felt a strange dizziness come over him, like a fogging of his thoughts, then everything faded away.

**oOoOoOoOo**

With a lot of help, Frank, Blake and TJ were finally able to free Caine. As Frank removed the last section of ceiling covering a semiconscious priest, Frank repeated an earlier question, "What the hell would cause the ceiling overhead to cave in like it did?"

No one answered, because there wasn't a good answer for it, or at least an easily acceptable answer. TJ knelt beside Kwai Chang as the man blinked a few times in confusion, then TJ could see the change as the priest began to orient himself.

"Where is Kermit?" Caine asked hoarsely and shook his head to clear his vision.

"Kermit?" Strenlich asked, glancing around.

TJ clenched his fists. "Son of a – he's gone!" he bellowed angrily. Damn it, Strenlich had asked him to stay with Kermit and he had let himself get distracted – the reason why, no matter how good, wasn't acceptable.

TJ felt a weak hand on his forearm and glanced down to see the understanding eyes of Kwai Chang. He said, "It was not your fault, Thomas Jefferson. It was inevitable. Please, help me up. I must find them, or else I fear something terrible will happen."

Strenlich shook his head. "There's no way I'm going to let you up until you are checked out by the paramedics. They should be here any minute."

Caine only looked at TJ expectantly. TJ glanced at Strenlich. "Chief, he's right. Trust me, he's gotta find Peter, Jody, and Kermit before this escalates into murder."

With a deep sigh, Strenlich gestured for TJ to put a hand under Caine while he did the same. Together, they helped him to his feet. Caine swayed for a moment as he brought his fingers to his forehead.

"Zebidiah Bixler has sensed in me a potential threat – a threat to what he sees as his second chance at life, so he sought to kill me. Please, help me, we must hurry or we may lose Peter, Kermit, and Jody forever."

TJ and Strenlich helped Caine make his way down to the steep stairs of the basement and TJ prayed they would get there in time to make a difference.

**oOoOoOoOo**

**Chapter 6**


	7. Chapter 7

**Chapter Seven**

Karen and Skalany found Joseph and Abigail quickly enough. Karen's instincts had proved correct – the two of them were in the basement, standing near the gaping hole leading to the newly discovered lower level, and they were locked in a passionate embrace. Karen caught Skalany's eye as she glanced back at her, but Karen was at a loss for a plan of action.

Watching from their position on the staircase, she saw Abigail nod. "Yes, Joseph, I will marry you. We will be together finally, even if Zebidiah refuses to give his blessing to our wedding."

Karen and Skalany glanced at each other again. Karen was about to say something when a shot rang out, knocking Joseph from his feet. A rapidly growing crimson stain of red spread across Joseph's chest.

Karen and Skalany twisted to face the shooter, though Karen knew before she looked that it would be Zebidiah. He had a rage-filled expression etched across his face – one that quickly transformed into vengeful satisfaction with the outcome of the shooting.

Karen fought to quell her own anger as Zebidiah's roiling oppressiveness surged off him in huge radiating waves of malevolence, sweeping past them to encompass the entire room.

Karen and Skalany recovered from their shock and started to split up, one to subdue Zebidiah, the other to help Peter, but all Zebidiah did to stop them was wave one hand. It was powerful enough to send a blast of cold, unearthly energy at them. It slammed them into the nearby concrete wall, then they tumbled helplessly down to the base of the staircase.

Karen cried out when she landed on her shoulder. Something shifted in a way it wasn't supposed to. Pain shot up and down her arm, stealing her breath away. She glanced over at Skalany, but Skalany was unconscious. Karen let her head drop back down to the floor as she struggled to breathe and control her pain. Unable to get up, she watched the scene unfold before her.

Abigail had screamed when Joseph was shot and knocked from her arms. She dropped to her knees beside him and pulled his head into her lap. "Joseph, oh my dear Joseph, what has he done?"

After a moment, Abigail's features relaxed. Joseph – no, Peter – was apparently still alive, thank God, then Abigail tensed again as Zebidiah approached them. It was obvious Zebidiah wasn't done with Joseph yet.

Abigail rose from her kneeling position, leaving Joseph on his own for the moment. Karen could hear Joseph's groans and ragged breathing, even as far away from them as she was. Abigail seemed oblivious to the blood on her hands and clothing, intent on stopping Zebidiah as she placed herself between Zebidiah and Joseph.

Zebidiah began speaking to Abigail in a soft, pleading tone. "Abby, I've been in love with you since the day you first came to live with us. How could you betray that love by wanting him, instead of me? I can give you a much better life than he could ever dream of. Please, Abby, marry me instead."

When Abigail didn't react, he dropped to his knees and extended his hands towards her, begging in a hoarse whisper, "Please, marry me."

Abigail stepped forward and placed her hands upon his outstretched ones and drew him up to stand before her.

"Zeb, I will be forever grateful to you. I shudder to think what would have happened to me if your family hadn't taken me in. My love for you will never change... but I am a grown woman now – old enough to make my own decisions and I have chosen Joseph to be my husband."

"NO! You love me!" Zebidiah demanded as his hands shifted to hold hers in a viselike grip. "You must love me!"

"I do love you, Zeb. I do." One of her hands slipped from his hold and she placed it upon his stubbled cheek. "But not in the way you wish for me to love you. I want to be with Joseph. Without his love, I would simply die."

Zebidiah jerked away from her tender touch as his anger began to rumble to life again.

His expression shifted and he snarled, "Don't you remember, Abby? We've had this conversation once before – when you actually ran from me, intending to go to him!"

Betrayal tightened the delicate features of Abigail's horrified face. "You – you struck me... " she stammered in a voice hushed by Zebidiah's revelation.

She pulled away from his hold and took a step backwards. One of her hands automatically flew to cover the back of her neck while the other covered her lips, as if to keep them quiet, almost as if she could prevent herself from saying them, then they wouldn't be true.

Zebidiah went to her side, but apparently he knew her well enough to keep from touching her again. His whole being begged for forgiveness as he said quickly, "It was an accident. You fell and broke your neck. You died in my arms."

Tears filled his eyes.

Abigail nodded. "Yes, I remember now. I fell when you struck me. Oh, my Lord, Zeb, why?" Her eyes went wide with bewilderment.

Zebidiah moved closer, his hands extended, but still refrained from touching her. "It was an accident! I swear I was only reaching for you to stop you from going to him – to stop you from leaving me. I would never do anything to deliberately hurt you. You know that, don't you? I love you!"

He rubbed his forehead and sighed. "I love you more than life itself, but you can drive me to outrage faster than any person I've ever known!"

"And... Joseph? What happened to Joseph?" she asked in a hushed whisper.

Zebidiah's demeanor shifted into something darker. He hesitated, and rubbed his hands together, as if he didn't want to answer her, as if he didn't want to see her reaction to that truth.

Finally, he shook his head and said, "He walked into the room a moment after you died and attacked me in a murderous rage. I was – I was only defending myself."

Abigail stepped closer to him in bold defiance. "So none of this was your fault? Is that what you are telling me, Zebidiah Bixler? That none of this was your fault?"

Zebidiah tried to catch Abigail's gaze. "Abby, darling, listen to me, we can take these bodies and make them our own. Please, Abby, please marry me and we can make this right. We can correct a blaring mistake that should never have been made. We could be so happy together!"

Abigail shook her head as she backed away from him, as if seeing his true nature for the very first time. As her voice trembled with an aching loss, she said firmly, "I cannot marry you, Zebidiah. I was meant for Joseph then, and I am meant for Joseph now. Besides, these people whose bodies we have borrowed have lives of their own – "

She stopped when Joseph groaned, then she moved to kneel beside him, but she was savvy enough to keep her eyes on Zebidiah.

"NO!" Zebidiah Bixler cried out. "I killed you before and I will kill you again before I allow him to have you instead of me!"

With Abigail's rejection, Zebidiah's fury became a molten, violent thing, ready to erupt with death and destruction. Zebidiah brought up the gun still in his hand and cocked the weapon.

Karen forced herself up, despite the knowledge her left shoulder was probably dislocated. She had to stop Zebidiah from killing Joseph and Abigial – no, she had to stop Kermit from killing Peter and Jody.

The air in the basement was frigid and she shook as the cold seemed to seep into her joints. She bit her lips and got to her knees. Skalany groaned and looked like she was starting to come around, but Karen had no time to deal with her. She had to stop a murder.

She pulled her service revolver and aimed it at Zebidiah, but all she could see was Kermit, and she found herself unable to shoot. Her hand shook as she held her aim.

Somehow, in his semiconscious state, Joseph saw what was about to happen. He pulled Abigail down and rolled over on top of her to protect her from Zebidiah. "No, I will not lose you again, Abigail!"

Zebidiah's murderous rage seemed to consume him. "I'll kill you again. I'll kill both of you again if it will keep you apart!"

He was about to shoot when his gun suddenly turned red-hot and he dropped it in pain and shock. Karen spun around to see Kwai Chang make his way down the steep staircase with assistance from Strenlich and Blake. TJ followed a short distance behind, carrying a large brass dish in his arms.

Strenlich and Blake went to help Karen and a very groggy Mary Margaret move away from the stairs so that Caine could proceed. Strenlich took one look at Karen's shoulder and he sat her down. "It's dislocated," he said as he moved into position.

She nodded.

"This is going to hurt like hell for a moment, Captain, then it will be better."

Karen nodded, trusting that Strenlich knew what he was doing. He shifted and her shoulder slipped back into place, but not before Karen cried out. She thought she was going to pass out for a moment, then she felt herself strengthen. Strenlich had been right. It did feel better.

She forgot about herself as she watched Caine quietly limp towards his son with TJ at his elbow helping to support him as he carried the brass dish under his other arm.

TJ took a position at Caine's back after handing him the brass device. With his weapon drawn, but lowered to his side for the moment, TJ eyed Kermit with dread. Karen knew exactly what he was thinking – he was battling the same dilemma she'd just faced and failed. Yet, there was something in his gaze that hinted he would wound Kermit in order to save two other lives and she breathed a little easier. He had the courage to do what she could not.

As Abigail helped to lay Joseph back to the floor again, Joseph's face was damp with sweat and his chest heaved with great gasps for air. It was obvious he was trying to control his pain long enough to protect Abigail from harm.

The room literally seethed with barely repressed anger and the ever-increasing level of oppressive energy. It was so strong Karen found it difficult to breathe.

"Oh my God," she whispered as Zebidiah began to rise into the air in front of Caine.

Strenlich straightened for a better look and muttered, "What the hell?"

A howling, frigid wind began to blow and it whipped small, untethered items into its rapidly growing maelstrom. Zebidiah continued to rise high into the air. His facial expression was so distorted by rage and hatred, influenced by his crazed emotions, Karen thought he no longer even resembled Kermit.

Caine stood as he took long deep breaths and raised the conical-shaped brass dish between himself and Zebidiah. The dish itself was extensively engraved with Chinese writing and ornate images. Time had tarnished the metal to a darker cast, but the inherent beauty of its original design and artwork, along with its effectiveness, remained unchanged.

Caine addressed Zebidiah. "You will listen to me – you have no choice as long as I hold this dish."

Zebidiah grimaced as he tried unsuccessfully to overcome the effects of the dish, then screamed in futile frustration as the swirling winds around them died down somewhat.

Caine waited patiently. Maybe, Karen thought, there was a chance he could put an end to this nightmare. He began to speak, "Over one hundred years ago, you fought this battle, Zebidiah Bixler. You did kill the very people you claimed to have cared for. Your problems were not resolved by their deaths, or by your own. Most assuredly, that is the reason why you have not moved on and why the three of you have gathered here in this place again."

Something in Zebidiah's expression and manner eased slightly with Kwai Chang's slow, steady speech and the undeniable effectiveness of the device in Caine's hands. It was as if the fire in Zebidiah's rage began to quench itself, being replaced instead by reason. The chill in the air lessened as the last of the dying winds finally ceased.

Zebidiah lowered himself to the ground to stand before Caine. Caine met his gaze. "If you kill them once more, do you think your torment will finally be resolved? I think not – if you kill them now, I believe you will entrap your spirits in this place for another length of time. Sadly, in this instance, the cost for such actions will be high, for there will be additional victims – those individuals whose bodies you now inhabit.

"Zebidiah, you died a bitter, old man. Do not carry such hatred into your next life. Learn from it and leave here now with that knowledge. Please, you must allow your spirit some peace. It is time to move on."

Zebidiah dropped to his knees, overwhelmed with emotion. He nodded as he held his head in his hands, his chest heaving in great gasps of air. "I did wrong back then, just as I was about to do again now. God forgive me, I was going to do it again!"

Zebidiah let his hands drop away and he shook his head. "I loved Abigail so much. It became a blinding obsession for me. When – when she was gone, I thought I'd go mad. My love had somehow became a murderous abomination in that instant. Joseph came in and saw Abby die. I was still in shock – hers truly was an accident. But when Joseph attacked me, I was beyond reason. I couldn't stop myself and I strangled the life out of him – for I held him solely responsible for causing her death. If she hadn't loved him, she would have never left me.

"After I regained my senses somewhat, I made plans. Being in charge of the city's underground railway system, I contrived some reason why this section of tunnel could not be used and directed work to other areas.

"I came down here often at first to construct that brick wall separating Abigail and Joseph's bodies from the upper access portal. Then, I would come down on other occasions over the years, just sit on the opposite side of that wall and talk to Abigail.

Occasionally, I would ask her forgiveness or simply tell her about my life.

"Other times, I would rant on for hours in pure madness until I was hoarse and could speak only in whispers. Even then, I wouldn't stop. I'd go on until I collapsed from pure exhaustion, until my anger, loneliness, and that horrid sense of bitter betrayal was finally spent for a certain length of time. Eventually, though, it would return again – with a vengeance and I'd have to go back down to that underground mausoleum once more to purge my inner demons.

"Finally, in my last years, I asked my cousin and confidant not to bury me in our family plot at the cemetery when I passed on. Instead, I asked to be buried on the other side of that wall, so I could at least be close to Abigail in death. I guess my guilty conscience was strong enough to keep me from being placed at her side."

He put his hands to his head and pulled at his hair. "I never dreamt we would be given this opportunity to meet and talk again. And what did I do with it? What have I become?"

Caine stepped closer to him, softening his voice, "Zebidiah, you will have another chance to redeem yourself in the next life, but you must move on in order to do that. You must leave now. For you are causing great pain and discomfort to Kermit, the man whose body which you now possess. His body has been exposed to forces no living being can easily withstand. You have nearly killed him with the vast energies you have channeled through him. So you see, you must leave him now in order to save his life.

"Your time here has passed, Zebidiah. It has been expended for this cycle. Take what you have learned today and apply it to your next experience in this world. It is the best you can hope for," Caine said as he took another painful step towards him.

Zebidiah looked wistfully towards Abigail as she held Joseph tightly in her arms. He held out a trembling hand and whispered, "My sweet, sweet Abigail, I am truly sorry for what I did to you and Joseph. Perhaps, one day, the two of you will be able to find it in your hearts to forgive me this terrible sin."

Karen watched Zebidiah, his pain twisting Kermit's features in a way that she would never see normally and her heart went out to him. Kermit looked pale, very pale and she worried about him, especially after what Caine had just said.

Abigail looked at him, then back down at Joseph. She brushed Joseph's hair from his forehead and her chin trembled. When she glanced back up at Zebidiah with tear-filled eyes, she nodded. "Yes, Zeb, I forgive you. Listen to what this man has told you. It is time to move on."

Zebidiah sighed and nodded. With his heartfelt apology finally said and accepted, Zebidiah's spirit then left Kermit. Kermit's body dropped to the hard cement floor of the basement.

Blake stepped forward and knelt beside him, frowning at what he found. Without a word, he removed his jacket and draped it over Kermit, then he glanced back towards Abigail and Joseph as he reached for his cell phone.

As if it soothed her, she continued to brush her fingers through Joseph's sweaty hair. Joseph reached up and took her hand in his. He brought it to his lips to kiss softly. Her other hand went to his cheek, gently caressing the firm line of his jaw.

Caine touched Abigail on the shoulder. She met his gaze and nodded in understanding. Her eyes filled with tears as she whispered to Caine, "Tell the others we are sorry for what we have caused them."

Caine smiled sadly as he leaned closer to her, "They will understand and be glad you are finally at peace."

Abigail nodded. She turned her attention back to Joseph, who was watching her through half-hooded eyes as he struggled with a weakening body.

"I love you so much, Joseph Ashbury," Abigail murmured, then she started to cry.

"As do I you, beloved," he said softly. "I can see now what was perverting our precious love into an angry, violent beast. Zebidiah Bixler's bitterness and jealousy began to taint our own spirits while we were here. You know in your heart, I never laid a hand upon you in anger while we were alive. Never in anger – that must be why I couldn't understand what was happening to us here. I was confused by what was corrupting our love, which had always been rock-solid. I can now see the truth for what it was."

Abigail was openly weeping by this time as her fingers brushed through Joseph's matted hair. "My darling, though we have fought many a time since we first came to know each other, words were the only weapons we used against each other. We knew we could depend upon our deep abiding love to be the healing balm for any wounds our angry words might have caused – "

Joseph stopped suddenly as a wave of pain caused him to bend forward. A tear slipped down his cheek as Abigail held him tightly. When he started to speak again, she tried to shush him, but he wouldn't hear of it.

With a much weaker voice, his southern accent became even more pronounced. "We haven't much time left, my darling." He took a ragged breath and continued. "I am truly thankful we died together, my precious Abigail. For I know I wouldn't have lasted a single day without you in my life. Although we never had a chance to see what our years together would have revealed, we did have a glorious time in the sunshine that was ours and ours alone."

Gently, she kissed his sweaty brow as he relaxed a little and she began speaking with her lips still touching his forehead, "Yes, Joseph, I shan't begrudge the brief time we shared in this world. No, not in the least."

She pulled away enough to look Joseph directly in the eye as she said, "For it is only a raindrop in the ocean compared to what now lays before us, my love. We shall have eternity together."

Kissing her hand as he held it, he said in a breathless whisper, "I only wish I could have found at least one red rose for you."

She shook her head, her fingers still brushing his brow. "The roses of our time are long gone, Joseph. Just as our own time has passed those many years ago. Being in your arms again is enough. Simply hold me for another moment... that is the only thing I desire before we leave this mortal place."

The two displaced spirits shared one final farewell kiss and then they were gone. The only lingering sign they had ever been there was the faint scent of roses drifting across the still air.

Karen found her eyes full of tears and told herself it was from the pain of her shoulder, but deep down she knew she'd been touched by the plight of the three spirits. She swallowed hard to keep from giving in to the urge to sob. It was sad, so very sad, but then she looked around and saw it was the living who needed her attention now. The dead were far beyond that. She wiped away a stray tear as she stood and looked around to those she could help first.

**oOoOoOoOo**

Joseph and Abigail's kiss ended, and Peter and Jody looked at each other in confusion. They pulled away from one another, then Peter groaned. Blake could only imagine what was going through his head.

"Peter?" Jody whispered loudly. "What – what the hell is going on?"

Peter only shook his head in pained bewilderment. He kept his left hand pressed against his shoulder and Blake thought the young man looked close to passing out again.

Jody glanced down at the blood on her hands, then at Peter's bloody shoulder. "Oh my God, what happened here?"

Skalany was up by then and so was Simms. At least, Simms looked like she wasn't in as much pain now as she helped Skalany pull a distraught Jody away from Peter.

"It's a long story," Simms said, "but it's okay, Jody, just come with us, so Caine can take care of Peter."

Strenlich helped the three women move away without collapsing. "Just sit tight. Help will be here soon."

Then he went back to Peter and Caine, kneeling across from TJ who hadn't left Caine's side. By then, Blake was on his cell phone again, "Broderick, send the EMTs directly down here the moment they arrive, along with an escort to clear the way. It's a zoo down here."

Blake looked down at Kermit. The man was in a bad way, his icy skin colder than Blake ever remembered a person having while still alive. His pasty white coloring and the extremely low body temperature scared Blake. Kermit's pulse and breathing didn't help to reassure him either. Kermit needed to be in a hospital right away.

Peter Caine didn't look much better. He had lost a great deal of blood in the short time since he was shot. Blake sighed.There's another one who needs to be in a trauma center.

Finally, there was Caine. Blake wasn't sure the true extent of his injuries, but judging by the drawn cast to the priest's skin, he wasn't doing all that well, either.

Blake pulled out his cell phone again and punched in the phone number quickly. "John, these people are freezing cold. We need all the hot coffee you can tote down here, plenty of blankets, and the emergency first aid kit to use until the paramedics arrive. And we need it now!"

"On its way, Blake," Broderick answered briskly. Before he hung up the phone, he was already commandeering personnel to carry out the orders.

"Pop..?" Peter whispered as he looked up at his father beside him.

"Yes, Peter?" Caine leaned closer.

"You really look like hell," he whispered as he started to chuckle, then grimaced in pain.

"Be quiet, my son, and save your energies for healing," Caine said as he tapped Peter gently on the chin.

Simms left Jody with Mary Margaret and walked back over to Caine. She was holding one arm tightly with the other and Blake wondered how she was managing as she knelt closer, asking quietly "How is he doing?"

"He will... survive," Caine replied distantly.

Caine closed his eyes, then slumped to the floor. Strenlich caught him easily, as if he'd been expected that to happen and he eased him down to lie beside Peter. It was a good thing Strenlich had been there because the captain was in no shape to stop Caine from hitting the floor.

Armed with several blankets sent down by Broderick, uniformed cops began passing them out. TJ took one and draped it over Caine's unconscious form, and then two more to cover the shivering Peter. The last one was reserved for Kermit. Blake tucked it tightly around Kermit and prayed it would be enough to help.

One of file clerks came rushing down with a thermos of coffee and several Styrofoam cups and began to pass out steaming cups of coffee. Blake licked his lips, grateful the room had started to warm up in the few moments since the spirits left, but he didn't relax. He wouldn't until he knew his coworkers were going to be okay.

**oOoOoOoOo**


	8. Chapter 8

**November 8th**

**Epilogue**

**Chapter Eight**

There was a tasteful ceremony held the following week, arranged by the descendants of Zebidiah Bixler, where the remains of Abigail Brigham, Joseph Ashbury, and Zebidiah were finally and properly interred.

There was a large crowd, representatives from the precinct and construction crew who had discovered the unknown sub-basement, others present were various members of Zebidiah Bixler's family, along with the media, and other respected members of the community.

Karen adjusted her arm sling as she made her way over to the outdoor tenting area at the cemetery where the funeral services were to be held. Her shoulder was still stiff and painful, but at least it was healing well. She sat down with the others from the precinct right as organ music playing sad, respectful tones filled the air.

Caine was officiating over one portion of the funeral ceremony. Caine's injuries were well on their way to being healed. The miscellaneous cuts and bruises evident on his exposed skin were the only lingering visual clues to the injuries he sustained in the explosion at the station. Caine spoke to the large assemblage, "Death impacts the living, even a century later, as seen by our large attendance today. Living and dying are part of the natural order of things. We are gathered here not only to give the dead a proper burial and farewell, but also to remind the living of the brief and fragile nature of life.

"For we are given a daily gift of life. It must be nurtured and appreciated. Do not take it for granted. Do not rush through it. Savor each and every day in that journey which is our life. This is what death reminds us. Not of the finality of life, but the continuing miracle of life.

"Too often, we attempt to drag our past along with us as we move forward in our days, bringing all of our mistakes and regrets. We carry them with us, not realizing how the days slip away to become years, and not realizing the weight of that self-imposed burden we heft upon our backs until finally we find can no longer move forward.

"Today, we bury the remains of people long deceased and we must remember the symbolic significance of this sacred ceremony. A year from now, even a month from now, this occasion will be only a minor memory. For as the dead are buried, they become a part of our past.

"Only those who learn from the past, those who use that knowledge to deal with the present, and then move forward into the future, are the wise souls who will know the real serenity and satisfaction of a life fully lived."

Karen listened to Caine and found herself letting go of the turmoil that had filled her ever since the first appearance of Joseph, Abigail and Zebidiah. Yes, it was time to put them in the past where they belonged.

**oOoOoOoOo**

Peter glanced around the crowd, surveying the reaction to his father's words and was surprised to see that, regardless of the wide range of professions, incomes, and backgrounds, Kwai Chang Caine held the group mesmerized. Peter smiled and nodded in approval as his chest swelled with pride.

Peter, like Kwai Chang Caine, was made of hardy stuff. He'd survived his gunshot wound, and the subsequent surgery required to remove the bullet lodged in his shoulder. His youth, physical strength, and natural tenacity for living had pulled him through once again. He'd only been released from the hospital a few days before.

Peter quietly cleared his throat and resisted the urge to bring a hand up to soothe still sore throat muscles. Now, a full week after Halloween's deadly escapades, Peter's voice still had a hoarse quality to it. The bruises on his neck had blossomed into exotic shades of red, blue, black, and purple. There were now edges of green and yellow beginning to appear around the periphery. He'd hidden them as much as he could behind a black turtle-neck sweater.

Movement in his periphery caused Peter to notice Jody had gotten up from her seat. She was set to sing for the ceremony. Peter sat a little straighter in his seat to get a good angle to see Jody on stage. Jody had wanted to participate in the farewell services for Abigail and Joseph in some capacity and finally decided her choice of music would be the perfect way to do so.

She'd talked to Peter about it, wanting to pay some small tribute to Abigail, and then asked the Bixler family for permission to sing the song at the service. When the family asked about what she would sing, she'd simply reminded them of Abigail's love for roses. In fact, the young teen had written extensively in her diary about a collection of roses Zebidiah's mother had started. Over the course of her short life, she'd added extensively to the rose garden and had plans to do a lot more with it – plans Zebidiah had carried out after her death.

As Jody clutched the microphone, the band behind her began the simple instrumental opening of the song she was to sing. Swallowing hard, she brought the mike to her lips and began the memorable, yet haunting lyrics in Jody's own low, sultry style.

**"The Rose"**

(written by Amanda McBroom)

Some say love,

It is a river that drowns the tender reed,

Some say love,

It is a razor, that leaves your soul to bleed,

Some say love,

It is a hunger, an endless aching need.

I say love, it is a flower

And you, its only seed.

It's the heart, afraid of breaking

That never learns to dance.

It's the dream, afraid of waking,

That never takes the chance.

It's the one, who won't be taken,

Who cannot seem to give,

And the soul, afraid of dyin'

That never seems to live.

When the night has been too lonely,

And the road, has been too long,

And you think, that love is only

For the lucky and the strong,

Just remember, in the winter

Far beneath the bitter snows,

Lies the seed that with the sun's love In the spring,

becomes the rose.

Jody looked out over the crowd when she was done and wiped away a stray tear. Peter could tell more were threatening to fall but Jody managed to contain her emotions. Both of them had been deeply affected by what they'd been through, as if something of the spirits who had possessed their bodies had left some lingering impression upon their souls.

Peter heard a muffled sound and glanced over to see Strenlich, the normally stoic chief of detectives doing his best to hide the tears that fell from his eyes. Eventually, the ceremony ended. As people began to gather in small groups and talk, Peter stood up and took the single red rose he'd brought with him to Abigail's beautifully adorned casket.

"I know there are lots of roses here for you today, Abigail. This place is practically swimming with them, but this one is from Joseph – a perfect red rose cut from your own garden only this morning. I went there myself. I've gotta tell you, it's a beautiful place. You'd be proud of it, Abby. Hundreds of different colors and types of roses. It just went on and on." Peter sighed before continuing. "I know Joseph would have made a special point to give this to you – he just never got the chance to do it himself," he whispered softly. He set the blossom gently atop her casket, then walked away.

He wandered over to a nearby marble mausoleum. He leaned against its smooth surface and rubbed his shoulder with one hand while he took a moment to do some discreet people watching.

Most of the people attending this service weren't there to grieve or to give themselves a sense of closure as was the usual case at a funeral. These people present were simply there to give the dead a long overdue send-off, so there was an almost jovial mood to the crowd.

As Peter listened to the bee-like drone of the huge gathering's increasing level of idle conversation, he sighed in the warmth of the rare November sun. He closed his eyes and sank further against the unmoving support of the marble building. His mind drifted back over the past ten days. It was hard for him to imagine everything that had taken place since the discovery of Joseph and Abigail's skeletons that fateful morning in the precinct.

Peter thought with a bitter smile, _'Just another reason to hate Halloween.'_

The ache in that shoulder wound distracted him from his silent meditation, so he pushed his discomfort away and cleared his thoughts. He focused on his breathing and a sense of relaxation came over him, but when Peter finally opened his eyes and glanced around, he jumped violently.

At some point during his inner reflections, Kermit had walked up beside him and was leaning with his back against the mausoleum wall like Peter, apparently waiting for Peter to notice his presence rather than to disturb his peaceful state.

"Geez, Kermit! You trying to put me back into the hospital?" Peter exclaimed partly in jest and partly in anger, as his right arm automatically went to support his injured left side as he exhaled slowly through clenched teeth.

Peter caught Kermit looking at the way he was cradling his shoulder and Peter quickly let his hand drop away as he straightened, mainly because of Kermit's guilt-ridden expression. Kermit must have realized what was going on, because his jaw tightened in response.

Peter cleared his throat and said, "Kermit, I've tried to talk to you about what happened at the precinct, but you always seem to find a way to stop the conversation."

"Consider it stopped again. We aren't having this conversation," Kermit said, shaking his head as he took off across the thick, padded grass of the cemetery lawn, then he stopped. Without turning back, Griffin muttered, "Sorry, kid."

Peter went to him and put a hand on Kermit's shoulder. Peter could feel tensed muscles ripple under his hold.

"Kermit... " Peter started, not moving his hand away.

"Leave me the hell alone, Peter, unless you want a repeat visit to the hospital!" Kermit said in a low, menacing growl.

"I'm not gonna leave you alone, Kermit. We need to talk," Peter said as he finally let go of Kermit's shoulder. When Kermit still hadn't turned around to face Peter, but hadn't stormed away, Peter pressed on. "You wouldn't have come to me unless you thought the same thing."

Kermit shook his head. "It was a mistake. I'm dangerous to your health," Kermit murmured angrily as he started to walked away.

Peter called out in a different way this time – a way he hoped would reach through Kermit's heavy veil of anger, guilt, and remorse. "Kermit, you've saved my butt more times than I can count. Hell, I owe you my life a dozen times over. You've constantly watched my back, even when you didn't have to. You've been my friend when anyone else would have run for the hills."

Kermit shook his head, still not turning around. "I could have killed you and not known a thing about it until I woke up! I could have killed the whole crew from what I heard. It's amazing anyone is even talking to me."

Peter shook his head even though Kermit couldn't see the motion. "No, that's because everyone else knows you weren't to blame for any of what went on."

Kermit stared down at the ground and Peter picked up where he'd left off. "You've been my friend, even when it went against your grain, even when it scared the shit out of you, and even when I drove you nuts. You're always there. I don't understand it. I can't explain it. I just know I'm a very lucky guy to have you on my side.

"So get this through that thick skull of yours, I don't blame you for shooting me. That was something out of your control. Put it behind you. Like my father just said, you have to leave the past behind you in order to move forward with the living."

Kermit rubbed the back of his neck. "You're getting more like your father every day, and you know what? I can feel my blood start to boil every time you try pulling that Shaolin shit on me..." Kermit began as he slowly turned around to face Peter.

Peter suppressed a smirk at Kermit's open-ended threat and he moved closer to Kermit, looking Kermit straight in the eye. "I know from personal experience beating yourself up isn't as much fun once you've been called on it. And you should know, you've been the one to call me on a lot of my pointless guilt trips. Now, it's my turn.

"Look, kid, I – " Kermit stammered, suddenly unable to stare Peter directly in the eye.

Peter took in the other man's guilt-ridden expression, knowing exactly what Kermit was dealing with. "It's okay, Kermit. You don't have to say anyth– "

Kermit growled. "No, Peter, I need to say it, even if you don't need to hear it. I've hurt a lot of people over the course of my life, because of my work, but I – I... "

Kermit paused and Peter tried again to ease Kermit's guilt by saying, "Kermit, it's okay – "

Kermit snarled, "Interrupt me again, Peter, and I'll shoot you on purpose!"

Peter opened his mouth one more time, but stopped when the sudden movement of Kermit's hand to his holster silenced him.

"Dammit! Now, I've almost lost my train of thought... " Kermit paused as he paced a moment before returning to Peter's side to begin again. "I lived by a code of violence for a very long time, but I never wanted to hurt my friends in that way. I know all of that shit happened while we were both 'possessed', but I need to say I'm sorry for the pain you went through afterwards."

Kermit paused as he swallowed hard, his gaze directed downward. After a few moments, Kermit glanced up. "Okay, Kermit, I've listened to what you had to say. And you're forgiven," Peter said. "Now, can we move on?"

Kermit sighed, then nodded as he met Peter's gaze, then he groused, "So are they gonna have food at this shindig or what?"

He started walking back toward the others and Peter fell into step behind him, relieved that they'd both been able to say what was on their minds. Things were good between them again and that meant a lot to Peter.

Kermit and Peter joined the others from the 101st precinct just as Jody strolled up to them and said, "I've got a ton of Halloween decorations that I'm willing to give to anyone who wants them. I'll even deliver them to your house. Otherwise, I'm planning on having a big bonfire later on tonight."

Peter chuckled, but deep inside, he knew exactly how she felt. Halloween would never be the same for any of those who had been through those fateful days.

**oOoOoOoOo**

After the funeral, everyone had been invited to a reception at the Bixler family estate. Not exactly in the mood to be social, Jody and Peter found themselves wandering the grounds. They finally wound at a Japanese-styled ornamental garden at one end of the estate, complete with a huge, beautifully designed pond. It was filled with enormous, multicolored specimens of koi and extensive lily pads.

Peter felt himself relax as he took in the beauty and simplicity of the garden, especially the pond. He moved to the water's edge and squatted down to take a closer look as the water gently lapped at the edges of the pond, faintly stirred to life by the benign movements of the swimming fish.

There was something in Peter's soul that always seemed to free itself whenever he was around water, as if water soothed the constant motion of his body and spirit and provided him with a sense of serenity that eluded him whenever he was away from it for any length of time.

Peter turned when he heard a faint squeaking sound and saw that Jody had found a lovely wrought iron swing attached to a strong, thick limb of an old oak tree. He smiled at her and turned back to the water, watching the koi pursue one another in the murky water for another minute. It was as if the beautiful setting was healing a hole left in his heart by their ghostly experiences. Finally, he stood and joined Jody at the swing.

The towering oak above them appeared to be a little out of place with all the bonsai trees, ornamental shrubs, and delicately manicured sand sculptures. Then again, judging by its huge girth, the mighty oak had to be over two hundred years old.

Rather than removing such a spectacular specimen, the garden's creators must have decided to incorporate it into their master plan, using the tree as a focal point. By adding the beautifully crafted wrought iron swing and positioning it to face the expansive koi pond, the designers had made the tree a place of reflective contemplation.

On an almost subliminal level, Peter decided the huge tree lent its sturdy strength to those who were near it as it reached for the heavens with its straining branches now nearly bare with winter approaching and downward with its powerful roots which stretched out in countless directions in search of water and life-sustaining nutrients.

Peter swore he felt some of that great strength being transferred to him as they sat and rocked. It was a similar sensation to what he felt whenever his father had transferred some of his chi to him whenever he'd been seriously sick or injured, though this effect was not nearly as pronounced. Peter liked the idea of nature sharing its energy with him. For some reason, it soothed his spirit even more. He sighed and tilted his head back to soak in the sunshine.

Peter felt Jody's probing gaze. She'd already asked him a few times how he was doing and reminded him not to overextend himself in his first long day out, so she was probably giving him a quick once-over. Despite his brush with death, Peter didn't think he looked very fatigued or was even in that much pain. He was happy to be outside, then he realized for the first time in days, he actually felt warm and relaxed.

As Peter settled himself more comfortably into the padded seat of the swing, he glanced over at his partner and said, "You know, Jody, I really am sorry that Halloween has lost its appeal for you."

Jody sighed. "It's okay, Peter. There are plenty of other holidays left to celebrate. You don't happen to have a problem with Thanksgiving, do you?" she asked with a big wide-eyed expression, daring him to say no.

Peter laughed and shook his head, "No, Thanksgiving is fine by me. I love it. In fact, I'll even help you decorate for it!"

"All right, partner!" Jody gave Peter a high five salute in return for his reply.

They sat in silence, each basking in that bright sunlight which permeated their bodies with healing warmth while they were involved in the peaceful process of watching fish swim around the vast pond. There was a simple contentment in being in the other's company, grateful that both of them had survived.

Peter finally broke the silence. "That was a beautiful thing you did, Jody, choosing that song and singing it with such emotion," Peter said, then he grinned and chuckled. "Though, I didn't think Strenlich was ever gonna stop crying. Man, this will haunt him for years to come."

Jody burst out laughing. "Thank God I didn't see him crying like that while I was up on stage. I would have lost it right then. With the whole mood for my song destroyed, I'd have been rolling on the floor, unable to breathe, and laughing hysterically."

Peter started chuckling with her. For a while, neither one of them could stop, then finally the laughter subsided and Peter let out a long breath. His mood shifted and he asked, "Jody, are you okay with the way things went down? I mean, it got pretty crazy there at the end."

Jody nodded. "I'd be lying if I said I was fine. That whole thing really screwed with my head for a while until I was finally able to separate myself from Abigail again, but I've been sleeping like a baby all week. Not a single dream. At least, not that I remember. It's weird. I can't quite explain what I'm feeling."

She licked her lips and sighed. "I do know one thing that's driving me crazy. I feel like I'm jealous as hell of the love Abigail shared with Joseph, mostly because I've never known anything like that in my life. I mean, I've been in love, but I've never been love like they were."

"Yeah, their love was something you don't see everyday," Peter said. Both grew silent again, then Peter said, "Pop told me what they said after I woke up from surgery. I'm glad they left here with the thought of spending an eternity together. It must have helped to tide them over for their journey."

He mulled over that thought again before adding, "Forever spent with someone you love so deeply wouldn't be such a bad thing."

"Think we'll ever find that special person, Peter?" Jody asked pensively.

"Who knows? The day is still young... " He flashed her his grin before continuing. "Hell, a few days ago, it was raining like it was time to start building another ark or grow gills. Didn't look like the sun would ever shine again."

He paused, chewing on his lip for a moment. "I'm not trying to sugarcoat what happened to us, Jody – we went through hell and back over those three days, but when I think back on it, I tell myself it served a greater purpose. I mean, three displaced souls were able to rest again after a century of limbo."

She nodded and slid closer to him. Without thinking, he wrapped his arm around her shoulder and kept talking. "With those endless days of rain – well, just look at that sun. It's shining so bright, we should be wearing sunscreen! It's an amazing thing to behold."

After a few moments, he said, "You know, Jody, we think we control so much of our lives with science, technology, and organization. Then, a storm like the one we just had comes through – or the supernatural makes an appearance – and every damned thing you ever thought you controlled or understood goes flying out the window, leaving you bewildered and unsure."

He thought for a moment. "What's that old saying, this too shall pass? It's true, because all things eventually do. Storms, sunshine, life, death...all working in cycles as old as time. We humans think we control our lives. Instead, our lives are predetermined in so many ways, by greater powers than our own that we can't begin to fathom it all.

"My father likes to say, life is not what happens to you, rather life is a matter of what you do with what happens to you. Personally, I think we've done a hell of a job dealing with what's happened to us over the last ten days." He finally paused, looking to Jody for her response.

Strangely, Jody's eyes were wide and her mouth was open slightly. She met his gaze and shook her head in disbelief. "Honestly, Peter, don't you ever stop to take a breath?"

A little chagrined, Peter started to laugh when he realized he had gone off on a big tangent. The look on his face must have been priceless, because she started laughing and they dissolved into another laughing fit.

Once they'd calmed down again, Peter leaned his head back and shut his eyes, but he still had a big smile on his lips as he let his mind wander. He glanced over at Jody as she watched the fish swimming about in the pond. "You know, if I had to go through that nightmare with anyone at the precinct, I'm glad it was with you, Jody," he said finally, his gaze locking onto Jody's.

She pulled back a little, eyeing him closely. "Yeah?" she asked.

"Yeah," he answered her just as simply as he gave her shoulder an extra squeeze.

"Me, too." She settled back against his arm and relaxed in the pleasant sunshine. She barely moved when she began speaking again. "Even in your rambling, partner, you come up with a good idea every once in a while. What you said earlier about the rain and the sunshine... how it comes in cycles, and about how this too shall pass. Well, I think that's a good thing to remember. No matter how gray or dark the skies appear, eventually the sun will shine again. Yep, that's a very good thing to remember, Peter."

Peter raised his head to look at her. "Well, thanks. Good to know you do listen to me occasionally," he said with a smirk on his face. She batted his arm gently, then leaned back in the swing. They set an idle pace as they swung back and forth, neither saying anything for a long while.

Peter glanced over at her and asked softly, "You ready to head back inside now?"

Jody sighed as she thought for a moment. She smiled before saying, "No, not really. Would you mind staying out here with me a bit longer to enjoy a little more of this wonderful sunshine?"

Peter glanced back at her and her simple request. He realized he wasn't in any hurry to leave this serene place. "Not a bit," he said in reply as he settled in beside Jody and took a deep breath.

Maybe it was time for him to _'stop and smell the roses for a while', _so to speak. Maybe, he'd do it out of respect for a couple of reunited lovers who had recently passed on to the great unknown. Then again, maybe he'd do it just for himself.

**oOoOoOoOo**

**The End**

**Chapter 8**


End file.
